


Heaven Sent

by EffortlesslyOpulent



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Grounder Clarke Griffin, Grounder civil war, clarke and lexa are married, clexa are SO soft for each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 54,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25977163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffortlesslyOpulent/pseuds/EffortlesslyOpulent
Summary: Clarke comes down from the Ark years before others, and becomes entangled with the Commander. Years later, when the Ark comes down and brings its hostilities with it, she is torn between her people and what it will take to form an alliance.
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Jake Griffin, Anya/Raven Reyes, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 199
Kudos: 1632





	1. Chapter 1

Lexa hadn’t expected to be woken before dawn, on one of the very rare days she had little to no duties. 

No summits, no meetings, no barbaric fights. 

In the midst of war, that was considered quite the privilege. 

Only to be spoiled by fate, it would seem. 

The earliest hours of the morning were untouched by the sun’s light. A cool fall breeze would blow occasionally, bringing crisp leaves of all russet colors to drag against the floors. 

The only noises that could be heard, in Polis, were the dragging of the leaves, the flickering of the torches, the idle chatter of the night shift of guards. 

Guards posted along the perimeter. Watching, always watching. Eyes scanning the horizon for the heads of Azgeda warriors, or the troublesome mountain men, with their rifles that had already felled so many. 

They saw no such disturbance tonight. 

Lexa herself was fast asleep in her quarters, arms draped around the bare body beside her. Deep breathing and the slight rustle of furs were the only sounds that filled her room, perched atop the tower. 

Candles flickered in the low light, casting the faintest shadows across the room. 

Lexa, spent and exhausted, oblivious to it all. 

Oblivious to the leaves, the shadows, the torches, the guards, the deep breathing of the woman beside her, perhaps more exhausted than she. 

Understandably, then, she was surprised to hear rapid knocking on door, her guards barking at her in trigedasleng.

Their voices were tinged with fear. 

Lexa’s eyes shot open, immediately trying to regain some sense of her surroundings. She leapt off the bed, throwing on the closest garment she could find. 

“ _ Heda! Miya snap!”  _

Titus. 

What on Earth was happening? 

Lexa knew, in any case, if her guards were breaching their usual code of conduct, that it was dire.

Gods, what now? 

Another platoon of the mountain men? 

Another skirmish at the border with Azgeda scouts? 

Lexa glanced back at the sleeping girl in her bed, just now waking. 

“ _ Set raun weron yu ste kamp, Natshana,”  _ Lexa told the girl to stay, regarding her with inquisitive eyes, dark under the flickering candle light. 

Lexa tried to compose herself, a glance at the door telling her she had no more time to waste. She stepped forward, opening the door with a grim look. 

“ _ Chit yu gaf, Titus?”  _ Lexa demanded, eyeing the warriors beside him. 

No one of importance was made to roam the streets of Polis at night without proper accompaniment, despite it being the safest of Lexa’s holds. 

“Heda,” Titus dipped his head, out of sheer respect, though he sounded winded, tired. 

He chanced a glance into Lexa’s dim quarters, eyes narrowing at the foreign figure in Lexa’s bed. 

As if she were a child, as if she wasn’t allowed to indulge. 

As if he had any say in the matter. 

Lexa shut the door behind her, the quick slam sending him into a minor shock. 

“Spit it out before I lose my patience.” Lexa practically growled, all defensive. 

“Apologies, Heda. It would appear that our scouts have found...heard…” 

Lexa cocked a brow. “Yes?” 

“Along the south side of our border, Heda. An...a….” 

“ _ Skaifaya.”  _ Titus sounded grim. “Flaming. Falling into pieces along the territories. The largest is the one our scouts found.” 

Lexa sobered instantly. “When?” She demanded. 

“I rode immediately back to report.” One of the warriors behind Titus affirmed. 

“Survivors?” Lexa whispered, keeping her voice low, suddenly. 

The warrior cocked a brow. “Perhaps? We were content to let them burn, Heda. The few who emerged had the  _ maunon’s _ …. _ rifles _ , strapped to them.” 

Lexa paled. “Burn?” She repeated. 

The warrior nodded. “The…” 

“Ship.” Titus supplied, 

“Yes. The ship was on fire. A plume of smoke can be seen above the trees.” 

“Gods, they’re a target to everyone.” Lexa breathed. “I want a force mobilized now, Titus.” 

“Commander?” Titus sounded apprehensive. “To send our people into the dead of night, where the smoke has likely already summoned the presence of Azgeda, of the Maunon, the reapers, of- gods knows what else- And to do what upon arrival, Heda? Run into the burning ship to retrieve those who will surely become our adversaries?”

Lexa stiffened. 

Her back straightened, her jaw tightened, and she took a step forward. 

“Surely...that would be sending our people to their own death.” Titus reasoned. 

Lexa looked grim. 

As much as she wanted to tear his throat out, to keep him from making such callous comments, he was right. 

And she was a leader to these people, responsible for each and every life, for every child orphaned if her orders fell through. 

“Titus. Refusing to help them would be a massacre in itself, and I refuse to put more blood on the hands of Trikru. Now,  _ go.” _ She demanded with such a ferocity that both her warriors took off, nodding hurriedly.

Titus, however, remained. His eyes looked pained, as if Lexa were suffering in front of him, and there wasn’t a thing he could do. 

The audacity of it all was what truly set Lexa on edge. 

“Heda, if I may-” 

“Speak freely, Titus.” Lexa challenged. 

“You cannot let your... _ carnal desires  _ dictate your leadership.” Titus spoke vaguely, but it was enough. His eyes were trained on the door, where the woman laid bare in Lexa’s bed, sheltered from the brutality of the outside world, for the moment. 

Lexa looked affronted, but Titus had the gall to continue. 

“She is  _ not  _ some common  _ courtesan  _ for you to-” 

“Therein lies the problem, Heda.” Titus spoke gravely. 

Lexa had enough.

She took a step forward, jabbing her palm against Titus’ chest, enraged. 

“You are  _ out of line,  _ Titus.” She growled in a harsh whisper. “My personal affairs are no business of yours, and she  _ outranks  _ you.” 

That was a low blow, and Titus’ expression crumbled, suddenly sinister. 

“Now do as I say, or make way for the next  _ fleimkepa _ .” Lexa threatened, not missing a beat as she gave Titus one last push with hands trained to kill. 

She waved him off and slammed the door behind her as she re-entered the bedroom, breathing labored. 

She leaned back against the door for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, before taking a deep breath, and launching forward. 

Right into another body, warm and  _ real. _

“ _ Hei.”  _ Lexa whispered softly, noting the furrowed brows and the frown. 

“What’s going on?” The woman looked perplexed, now fully dressed in the clothes she’d worn, the one’s they’d torn off in such a flurry. 

Lexa steeled herself. 

“ _ Ai natshana.”  _ Lexa consoled softly, cupping her cheeks. “ _ Klark. _ Listen to me.” 

The blonde shifted carefully, leaning into Lexa’s touch, anxious. 

“Is it Azgeda?” Clarke tried. “Is someone hurt? I can get the kit-” 

“Shh.” Lexa whispered, thumbs caressing her cheeks. “I’m going to tell you,  _ niron. _ Listen.” 

Clarke nodded, taking a breath. 

“ _ Skaifaya.” _ Lexa whispered. 

Clarke’s expression shifted to one of absolute shock, accompanied by her gasp. 

“...They’re here?” Clarke whispered. “Where? Lexa, we have to go-” 

Lexa held her in place. “Klark, it’s not safe to-” 

Clarke wore an immediate scowl, stubborn as ever. “Don’t.” She threatened. 

Lexa sighed. “I-” 

“Don’t,  _ Leksa _ .” Clarke commanded her name so well, so familiarly off the tongue, and Lexa was spellbound. “I need to be there.” 

“I know,  _ niron _ .” Lexa nodded. “I already sent rescue parties.” 

“Rescue?” Clarke whispered, confusion tinting her features. “Oh my god.” Realization dawned on her face. “It fell apart.” 

Terrible images flashed through her mind, each far worse than the last. 

Her mother’s body, mangled by the pressure. 

The different rooms of the Ark, where she’d spent her life, burning in the depths of the forest. 

“ _ Hei.” _ Lexa whispered. “Breathe,  _ niron. _ I will accompany you. Gather your things, Klark.” 

Clarke nodded, but she paused, breathless. She leaned forward, cupping Lexa’s cheeks in her hands now, as she pulled her in for a blazing kiss. 

Lexa instantly relaxed, pulling herself closer to Clarke, anchoring herself to the blonde, as their kiss was broken by Clarke’s breathless laughter. 

Lexa saw the tears forming in the corner of her eyes, and she could feel, beneath all the posturing and the formalities, her heart was thumping in her chest, with hope for the girl. 

Hope that she could be  _ whole,  _ again. 

“Thank you.” Clarke whispered, kissing the corner of Lexa’s mouth. “Thank you.” She peppered kisses along the defined line of Lexa’s lower lip, before leaning back, eyes locking with Lexa’s. 

“ _ Ai hod yu in, Leksa kom Trikru.”  _ Clarke repeated, her accent barely there. 

Lexa’s heart was in overdrive, feeling as if it were to stop at any moment. 

She didn’t know how fate had brought them together, crazy and twisted as their tale was, but she was endlessly thankful for it. 

Endlessly thankful that the heavens had sent her Klark. 

Klark, the stubborn, fiery girl, who captivated and  _ infuriated  _ Lexa from the start. 

“ _ Ai hod yu in seinteim, niron.”  _ Lexa whispered, the sound following Clarke as she was guided to her armor, ready to don her Commander’s uniform.

* * *

The ride through the forest was quiet, save for the familiar sounds of horses’ hooves against the dirt path. 

Much as Lexa wished she could have ridden with Clarke, she knew it was safer for Clarke to have her own horse. 

_ In case anything went awry. _

The thought sent chills down Lexa’s spine. 

She could feel her heart pounding and aching for Clarke, though she remained silent, watchful, moving in tight and orderly form. 

She and Clarke remained encased in the center of the group, surrounded by warriors. 

Lexa knew she was to meet Indra at the drop site, where she’d be briefed in full before moving in and presenting herself. 

Normally, she would have kept her distance and allowed them to seek her out, once they’d learned of her status, and her presence. 

But Klark kom Trikru changed many things about her methods of operation. 

Lexa took a glance at the girl, her cape gracefully flowing behind her, blue in comparison to Lexa’s deep red. 

It was fitting, truly, for Clarke to don blue. 

She looked like an angel of death, her pauldron similar to Lexa’s, her blade strapped in at her side, her regal hood sitting over her blonde locks. 

Lexa eyed her expression, finding nothing but sheer and raw hope. 

It killed her, to think of what they might find at the drop site, to quell such hope before it even had the opportunity to blossom. 

But that was the reality of life on the ground, and judging by some of the horror stories Clarke had told her about the Ark, it wasn’t entirely different. 

As they rode beside each other, Lexa reached out, linking her pinky with Clarke’s when their hands brushed together. 

Clarke gave her a nervous smile, and somehow, Lexa felt worse. 

_ What if they’re unreasonably hostile?  _

_ What if I’m the one to swing the axe?  _

Thoughts of her duty to her people invaded her mind, and she suddenly felt nauseated. 

She glanced up when she felt the first few droplets of moisture, surprised to find dark, angry clouds hanging overhead. 

The moon was nowhere to be found, and Lexa tried not to think of the implications from Grounder superstition. 

Slowly, the droplets began to increase, and the speed of their group was doubled along with it, now in a rush to speed along the process. 

Clarke looked uneasy, but Lexa gave her hand a squeeze. 

“Rain is good for the fires.” Lexa promised, and Clarke nodded, continuing to trod on through the elements, wondering just what awaited her. 

* * *

Clarke was breathless, dying to spur her horse on, when she saw the plumes of smoke from the now extinguished fires. The group was rapidly making their way out of the wooded area and into a clearing, where the giant hunk of metal had made its landing. 

Clarke gasped when she saw it, unable to recognize which part of the station she was looking at. 

She could see, in the distance, people were laying on the grass. Some were laughing, she could hear distant screams and cries. 

And then she noticed the warriors. 

They’d formed a line of sorts, not once breaking rank, a barrier between Lexa’s party, and the Ark. 

Clarke wanted to run. She wanted to leap off her horse and run through the droves of survivors, to find her family, her friends. 

Lexa was watching her wearily, as if to say, “Don’t.” 

Clarke knew she was probably right. 

Someone charging the incredibly traumatized and terrified Arkers probably wasn’t the most logical of steps to take. 

As they slowed to a stop, Indra, one of Lexa’s trusted generals, was awaiting their presence. 

“Heda.” She dipped her head, and then eyed Clarke. “Wanheda.” 

There was nothing else to her tone but formality. 

“Indra.” Lexa rolled the “r” in her name with ease. “What’s the status?” 

Indra nodded, glancing ahead. “Most everyone survived. The fires were contained with extinguishing capsules found onboard. Our warriors fetched the injured, and brought them out.” 

“Resistance?” 

Indra nodded. “Most did not, but they were frightened. I ordered our people to speak  _ Gonasleng  _ only, though I’m not sure how they heeded those orders under such conditions.” 

“Weapons?” Lexa demanded, and Clarke scoffed. 

What was with the interrogation? Clearly no one had fired, and Clarke was  _ dying  _ to see- 

“They have them, yes. I would approach with caution, and send a diplomat, first.” Indra warned. “Someone they trust.” 

She eyed Clarke to finish the statement with a pointed edge. 

Lexa balked. 

She turned to Clarke, who was already dismounting. 

“Absolutely  _ not.” _ Lexa growled, suddenly. 

Her warriors seemed to sense the tenseness of the situation, and paced back, giving them what little space they could afford. 

Indra did the same. 

“Excuse me?” Clarke pressed back, face to face with the commander, unflinching. 

Lexa’s jaw locked as she eyed Clarke with ferocity. 

“We don’t send our  _ elites  _ as bait.” Lexa snapped. 

“What, are your warriors more expendable?” Clarke sneered. 

“No, they’re  _ trained  _ for  _ decades _ .” Lexa replied, getting in Clarke’s space. 

The heat between them was building. 

“ _ Leksa _ .” Clarke defied her, calling her by her first name. 

For anyone else, that would have been enough grounds for Lexa to have them dragged off and jailed somewhere. 

For anyone else. 

Not Clarke. 

“ _ Beja.”  _ Lexa shifted, suddenly, her voice dropping to an almost inaudible whine. 

Clarke’s expression broke, and suddenly, her heart was torn. 

“I will be  _ fine _ .” Clarke whispered, taking Lexa’s hand between them. 

“I cannot protect-” 

“You don’t have to.” Clarke murmured. “You’ve trained me. I need you to trust me, to believe in me. Okay?” 

“I do.” Lexa insisted. “I….Klark, I do not know  _ them.” _

Clarke nodded, all understanding. 

Damn her and her gift for diplomacy, her gift for communication, and leadership. 

Lexa hated it, because it put a target on the back of the one woman she adored. 

But she lived in awe of it, simultaneously. 

“ _ Ai hod yu in _ .” Clarke reminded with a slight smile, her body practically shaking. 

She reached up, winding her arms around Lexa’s neck, despite the potential brief in professionalism, because she didn’t really give a damn. 

Lexa pulled her close, resting her chin on Clarke’s head. 

“I love you too, Clarke.” She whispered, and Clarke’s entire body fluttered. “Be safe. I’ll be right here.” 

“I know.” Clarke murmured. “I will.” 

* * *

Clarke could feel the gazes of each and every grounder, including  _ her  _ grounder, on her as she marched forward, unarmed. 

Her heart hammered as she passed the wall of Lexa’s guards, her hands up as she moved into view of the ark. 

Unlike the others, she had no war paint. She’d worn her leather jacket, trying to look as mundane as possible. (Despite the pauldron, and the cape beneath it) 

Lexa  _ hated  _ the way she’d taken out the braids in her hair, allowing it to fall in waves down her side. 

She looked nothing like a Grounder, nothing like who she  _ was. _

She could see heads begin to turn as she made her way over. 

People she knew, laying on the grass in the clearing, exhausted. People tending to their wounds, people kissing the ground. 

It was unlike anything she’d ever seen. 

But she, too, remembered that feeling of planting her boots on the Earth for the first time. 

It was otherworldly, literally. 

She never could have imagined the way it felt, to suddenly have such an open expanse around her. She’d been  _ caged  _ on the ark, and she never realized it. 

The air was clean, here. The sounds of the winds through the trees, the birds calling out to one another, a reminder of life. 

It wasn’t sterile, cold, dark and unforgiving. 

It was  _ alive. _

Clarke felt goosebumps raise along her arms as people began to recognize her. 

Whispers of, “ _ It’s her” and “Oh my god”  _ began to echo, to ripple throughout the group. 

Clarke’s eyes searched and searched, never landing on her mother’s face. 

She paused where she stood when she saw a couple of people, in guard’s uniforms, slowly reach for their rifles. 

She could  _ feel  _ Lexa tense behind her, panic shooting throughout her body. 

She cleared her throat. 

She tried to practice her english every day with Lexa, because she’d hoped and prayed for this moment in all of her dreams. 

And now, it was a reality. 

“It….” Her voice faltered, but she tried again. “It’s….me. Clarke Griffin!” 

The “Griffin” echoed, bouncing off the Ark’s walls, and birds dove out of the nearby trees. 

At first, silence. 

Clarke couldn’t fathom it. Had they forgotten her? Her family name was amongst Ark royalty, it couldn’t have- 

“Clarke!” A voice sounded, from the entrance of the Ark. 

Marcus Kane. 

He looked completely in awe, a cut just above his forehead. He looked entirely too happy to be safely on the ground, and he nearly stumbled as he approached Clarke. 

When his speed increased, Lexa dug her nails hard into her palm, and if they hadn’t been short, they would have drawn blood. 

But what could she do, from so far away, demoted to a spectator in her own game? 

“Kane.” Clarke breathed. 

Kane smiled, looking frazzled. “I….I can’t believe it’s you.” He marveled. “How on Earth did you manage to...to…” 

“Survive?” Clarke supplied. 

“I...Yes, I can’t believe-” 

“Kane.” Clarke breathed, her heart pounding so loudly it threatened to drown him out. “My...are they...did they...make it?” 

Kane froze, and Clarke’s heart fell. 

“Clarke…” He began. “I, uh...I’m not sure-” 

_ No.  _

_ No, no, no.  _

And then another voice, from behind the Ark. 

“I know what I heard, Abby.” 

“Jake, let me look at your wrist before you- Oh my god.” 

Clarke took off like a bolt. 

Kane motioned for the guards to lower their weapons, and they did so with guarded expressions. 

Lexa stiffened, moving to lunge forward, but Indra put a careful hand on her hip, keeping her at bay. 

She watched, with wide eyes as Clarke bolted into the arms of the two fair haired older people. 

She swore she even felt a pang of jealousy. 

“I KNEW IT.” Jake almost roared with excitement, Clarke slamming into her father at full speed. 

He caught her in a bear hug, and suddenly, she was home. 

She was safe, in her father’s arms, her mother sobbing quietly into her hair. 

“Oh my god.” Abby was a broken record. “Oh my god, Oh my god.” 

Clarke’s tears stained Jake’s shirt, and she paused only to fully envelope Abby into her hug. 

From around them, their people watched with smiles adorning their faces. 

“Clarke?!” Abby breathed, kissing her hair. 

“Hi, mom.” Clarke croaked. “Hi, dad.” She added, taking a step back. 

“Let me look at you.” Jake whispered, pride and emotion ruling over his tone. 

They took in Clarke’s garments, her pauldron, her sash. 

It didn’t take long for the initial shock to wear off, and the questions to begin pouring in. 

“How did you survive?” 

“Where did you land?” 

“Are you with those people? Are they friendly?” 

“Clarke, are you safe?” 

Clarke took a breath, reining in her emotions. 

“I am safe.” She began, with a smile. “I...I landed not far from here. But it was winter, and I was freezing. These people, the Grounders….They took me in. I found a life with one of their clans, Trikru-” 

“Clans? As in, multiple?” Abby sputtered. 

“Yes. Twelve.” Clarke replied carefully. “There are more than we’d ever thought, on the ark.” 

Jake looked fascinated. “Amazing. What’s their technology like?” 

“Jake!” Abby elbowed him, all business. “Clarke, how have they treated you?” 

Clarke glanced up with a look of adoration, and Abby was taken aback. “Mom, they’re...amazing. They weren’t easy, to understand. But now...I...this is home.” 

Abby swallowed a lump in her throat. 

“Home?” She repeated. “Clarke, are they a threat?” 

“No.” Clarke replied. “They don’t have to be. Things aren’t stable right now, there’s...a lot of conflict, and tension.” 

Abby was watching the guards, Lexa’s guards, with extreme scrutiny. 

“They look like savages.” She noted. “The paint, the outfits….Clarke, what are you wearing?” 

Clarke looked a little offended, but schooled her expression. “This is a sash, worn by-” 

Abby cut her off. “Clarke.” She put her hands on her shoulders. “Baby, it’s okay. We’re here now. You don’t have to live like this, anymore.” She assured her. 

Clarke froze. 

Live like what? 

“Where’s Jaha?” Clarke whispered, trying to fight the bile in her throat. “I need to speak to the chancellor.” 

Jake smiled proudly. “You’re looking at her.” he offered. 

Clarke blinked. “...What? Where’s Jaha?” 

“He was voted out. It’s a long story, sweetheart.” Abby sighed. “What do you need to see the chancellor for, anyway?” 

Clarke grit her teeth. 

This was going south, quickly. 

“I’m an ambassador-” 

“You?” Abby scoffed. “Clarke, you’re twenty. Don’t these people, these...Grounders….have any elders?” 

Clarke’s brow furrowed. “Mom, it’s not about age, it’s-” 

“You’re telling me  _ you’re  _ the leader?” Abby questioned. 

Clarke shook her head. “I’m not, but-” 

The guards all moved into formation, suddenly staring down the scopes of their rifles as Lexa approached, with Indra and another at her side, walking regally. 

Kane looked perplexed. 

“Tell them to stand down!” Clarke shouted, suddenly volatile. 

Abby cocked a brow at her. “Clarke, they can’t just-” 

“They saved you!” Clarke practically growled. “Tell them!” 

Abby nodded, and slowly, they lowered their guns, looking wary as ever. 

Lexa approached, and Clarke took a breath. 

“No, mom, I’m  _ not  _ the leader.” Clarke turned to Lexa, who approached cautiously, a regal glance on her features. 

“She is.” 

“Her?” Jake repeated, surprised and amazed. 

“Who is she?” Abby demanded, putting a protective hand on Clarke’s shoulder. 

Clarke tried to shake it off, but Abby’s motherly grip was strong, and Lexa took note, scowling. 

Clarke took a breath. 

Lexa spoke first. 

“I’m Commander Leksa Kom Trikru of the twelve clans. You fell on my territory, and you’re going to unhand my wife, and listen very carefully.” 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Contains smut*

Abby looked taken aback. 

Jake just gaped for a moment before shutting his mouth, his jaw slack, just moments before. 

The crash site went silent, and Clarke took a breath, stepping back, into Lexa’s grip. 

Her wife’s grip. 

Abby didn’t know what to say, so she settled for choking. 

An admirable choice. 

“Mom.” Clarke tried, her voice almost cracking. “We don’t have time-” 

“W..Wife?” Abby stuttered, blood rushing to her head suddenly, making her a little dizzier than the crash. 

Clarke nodded. “For more than a year-” 

“ _ Ai get in chit yu ste fig raun.”  _ Lexa began in Trigedasleng.  _ I know what you’re thinking- _

“That...that language…” Abby blinked. 

Kane moved to step in, and Lexa’s hand flew in front of Clarke, protectively. 

“Let her go!” Abby barked. 

“Whoa.” Jake rested his hands on Abby’s shoulders. “Abby-” 

“No, don’t  _ Abby  _ me, Jake!” 

Clarke’s eyes widened, and Lexa let out what could only be described as a low growl. 

“Mom!” Clarke hissed. “That’s  _ enough _ .” 

“Everyone needs to relax.” Kane said sagely. 

Lexa glared. “If your people think they can survive on their own, by all means-” 

“Lexa, please.” Clarke interrupted, and Lexa stiffened, falling silent. 

“Clarke. Can you…” Jake trailed off, as if it pained him to say it. “Do you think you can give us some time, here?” 

Clarke swallowed the lump in her throat. 

Her own parents, pushing her away, after a reunion years in the making. 

That stung. 

“I can leave a party of my warriors here, for assistance.” Lexa spoke dryly, and Clarke  _ knew  _ she was angered beyond belief. 

“That would be-” Kane’s response was cut off by Abby. 

“Unnecessary.” Abby growled. “We can fend for ourselves.” 

Jake’s eyes widened. “Abby, you’re not thinking clearly.” 

“Clearly? Jake, our daughter is being held  _ hostage- _ ” 

“I’m  _ not!”  _ Clarke roared, and even Lexa flinched at the sound. 

“There is a city, miles to the west.” Lexa explained curtly. “If and when you decide to embark on the ride there, I will have scouts ready. If not, expect a declaration by seven days’ time.” 

“A declaration?” Kane repeated, unsurely. 

“Of war.” Lexa declared, turning on her heel. 

Clarke froze, glancing at Abby’s misty eyes. 

“Clarke.” She whispered. 

“I….” Clarke licked her lips. Her heart was pounding incessantly in her chest. “I don’t-” 

“Go.” Jake urged. “We’ll be there, Clarke.” 

Clarke nearly stumbled after Lexa, already making her way back to Indra with a grim expression on her face. 

She didn’t turn back to look at Abby, or Jake, or anyone else. 

She didn’t need to, to know what she’d be met with. 

Derision, upon their first meeting since she’d left the Ark, so many years ago. 

How foolish she’d been to think otherwise. 

* * *

“Leksa.” Clarke called, as they rode through the forest, the morning sun beating down on them in thin rays through the trees. “Leksa!” 

When she raised her voice, the patrol with them froze, looking at their leader with looks of confusion. 

Lexa took a deep breath, and then barked out the order in trigedasleng. “Go ahead!” 

They didn’t think twice as they spurred their horses on behind Indra’s lead, riding quickly out of earshot. 

Clarke was the first one off her horse, reins in hand as she nearly leapt off the saddle. 

Lexa was more regal with her actions, even with certain anger, as she slid out her saddle, coming face to face with Clarke. 

Clarke’s chest was heaving as she found Lexa’s locked jaw, her eyes darkened with anger, as if the virid trees of her forest colored eyes had been set ablaze. 

“Talk to me.” Clarke pleaded. 

“What, Clarke?” Lexa snapped, and then immediately regretted it, her throat bobbing with the harsh swallow of regret. 

Clarke flinched, feeling suddenly downcast. 

Her eyes found the forest floor suddenly interesting. 

“I…” She inhaled, trying not to cry. 

She wasn’t weak. No, far from it, she was a leader, a fighter, a figure of command. 

But she was  _ hurting _ . 

God, she was hurting. 

“I’m sorry.” Clarke choked, and she couldn’t even register the time in which it took for Lexa to pull her into her arms, back to the safety of their love. 

“It’s not your fault,  _ niron.”  _ Lexa whispered, clutching Clarke. “I...I reacted poorly.” 

Clarke scowled. “You didn’t. They were….they were awful.” 

“They were afraid, Clarke. They were threatened by my presence, by our...arrangement.” 

Clarke snarled. “She had the audacity to say awful things, Lexa.” 

Lexa sobered, kissing Clarke’s head. “She’s protective. She loves you, Klark.” 

“She doesn’t know you.” Clarke’s tears were falling. “She doesn’t know our people, or anything about us.” 

Lexa smiled at that, surprising Clarke. “I recall a certain  _ skaigirl _ who felt the same way, at first.” 

“There was no sword at my mother’s throat.” Clarke mumbled bitterly. 

Lexa stroked her back soothingly. 

“Don’t cry,  _ ai niron _ .” Lexa soothed. “They will return to you. To Polis. I’m sure of that much.” 

Clarke sniffled, feeling desperately pathetic for the way she was gripping Lexa like a lifeline. 

“I’m sorry I reacted the way I did. Had I been diplomatic-” 

“Don’t.” Clarke snorted through her tears. “They got what they deserved.” 

Lexa tsked, kissing away Clarke’s tears. “There’s time yet, Klark. I will ensure I double the scouts in the area. They will be safe.” 

Clarke shook her head, clutching at the fur of Lexa’s collar. “They don’t deserve you. No one does.” She whispered. 

Lexa smiled, an ethereal sort of smile, nuzzling Clarke’s cheek. “No one?” She uttered doubtfully. 

“They...they thought I was in this by force.” Clarke growled, her anger refreshed. “As if….as if this…” She motioned to Lexa’s embrace. “As if-” 

“I know.” Lexa consoled. “They will come to understand,  _ Klark. _ Don’t upset yourself over the first meeting.” 

Clarke inhaled deeply, taking in the woodsy scent that Lexa gave off, the most comforting thing in the world. 

“I...I haven’t been this distraught in a long time.” Clarke whispered. “I was afraid I’d lost you, and them, and I…” 

“Klark, as long as my heart beats, you will have me.” Lexa slid her sleeve up, enough to show the intricate vine tattooed along her inner forearm. 

Clarke did the same, pressing her forearm along Lexa’s, the vines meeting together to form an intricate sort of braid, a flower blooming on each. 

“Ai  _ houmon _ .” Lexa whispered reverently. “Do you understand?” 

Clarke nodded, and couldn’t help shooting forward to kiss Lexa suddenly, her heart slowing and hammering all at once, at Lexa’s lips. 

“I will  _ not _ make you choose, Clarke.” Lexa promised. “So long as I can help it.” 

Clarke shook her head, her lips trembling against Lexa’s. 

“There wouldn’t be a choice to make.” She whispered, resting her head against Lexa’s chest for just a moment, the birds singing around them once more. 

* * *

_ Clarke could feel her body trembling as it was wrenched free from the wreckage of the escape pod, already up in flames from its less than successful re-entry.  _

_ Her left arm was certainly injured, if not broken, and she more than likely had a concussion from the impact.  _

_Blearily, she tried to make out what was happening,_ _what was holding her in that vice-like grip._

_ An animal?  _

_ Her mother had warned her that there would be all sorts of unknown variables, when she reached the ground.  _

_ Panicking inwardly, she tried to reach for her gun, but found her body wouldn’t move. In a state of paralysis, it seemed. Shock.  _

_ She tried desperately to remember Abby’s coaching.  _

_ “Clarke.” She’d say, all business. “You need to breathe. In, out, in, out. Deep. Let the air fill your lungs, Clarke. Just...imagine. Fresh mountain air. You’re going home, sweetie. You’re going home.”  _

_ From her reverie, Clarke came to. She snapped her eyes open and then panicked. Standing above her was what...appeared to be a woman, a grim expression on her features. She had dark streaks across her eyes.  _

_ Clarke then realized that this woman also had a blade pressed against the edge of her throat.  _

_ Fantastic.  _

_ Clarke’s mind was reeling.  _

_ Was she hallucinating? Did she die on impact?  _

_ People had survived the war?  _

_ The sound of boots crunching the bracken on the floor sounded, and both Clarke’s and the woman’s head snapped up to meet the newcomer.  _

_ Clarke felt her heart drop, but for entirely different reasons.  _

_ A younger woman approached, looking like something out of the stories Clarke had once heard. She donned all black, a sword strapped to her belt, her hair in braids behind her shoulders. She wore light armor, and a slightly awed expression.  _

_ “Ste briyon en bak op.” the first woman’s voice came out quick and indecipherable, and Clarke couldn’t fathom what language it could have been, certainly not English.  _

_ “Onya.” The beautiful, somewhat younger girl spoke, a little defiance to her tone, as she approached slowly, guarded. _

_ “Leksa.” The older one hissed.  _

_ Were they sisters? A mother and daughter?  _

_ Clarke might have guessed, had she not been terrified for her life.  _

_ “Gonasleng.” Leksa murmured, her emerald eyes reading the depths of Clarke’s blue. She didn’t look sympathetic, or particularly kind. Merely intrigued.  _

_ The older one, Onya, growled at her, so much so that Clarke flinched. _

_ “Beja.” Onya demanded, folding her arms, letting Clarke drop.  _

_ At that, Leksa’s brows were lifted. _

_ She knelt in front of Clarke, and Clarke took in the tattoos that lined her muscular arms. The women were hardened, no doubt, trained to kill. It was obvious from the way they wore and handled their blades, from the very least.  _

_ Clarke barely had the chance to look around her, to take in the sunlight, dripping through the canopy of the forest trees, before her attention was snapped back to the beautiful one.  _

_ Leksa.  _

_ “You’re the ones they told us about.” Leksa spoke, and Clarke blanched when she realized that the girl was speaking English. “You fell from the sky.”  _

_ Clarke didn’t respond, only wincing when her arm began to throb, and Lexa took note.  _

_ Onya, the older one, watched with guarded curiosity, her hand dancing around the hilt of her dagger, just waiting to impale Clarke, it seemed.  _

_ “Are there more of you?” Leksa asked, licking plump lips as she awaited an answer.  _

_ Clarke didn’t respond, once more, quietly waiting for something. Anything.  _

_ “Do you speak?” Lexa prodded, perhaps a little bit of the impatience of her youth showing.  _

_ Onya rolled her eyes, snapping something in that foreign language once more.  _

_ Lexa’s brows shot up, and she nodded, leaning forward.  _

_ “You are injured. May I see?”  _

_ The sound of hooves clapping against the floor sounded from behind them, and Leksa’s eyes widened as she exchanged a glance with Onya.  _

_ Clarke felt the fear in their gazes, and suddenly, wished she’d never left the Ark. _

* * *

Once they’d reached Polis’ walls, Lexa had already been called into a meeting with the ambassadors. 

Clarke had declined profusely, insisting upon her unreadiness to discuss what had just occurred. 

This, of course, angered the ambassadors to no end, but Lexa wouldn’t have it, barking at them whenever they dared to bring it up. 

And so the meeting went, while Clarke slinked off to find solace elsewhere, knowing that her previous alliances with her own people were going to put her in jeopardy with her new people. 

She’d made a beeline for the Commander’s quarters, changing out of her clothing, every ceremonial bit of it. She removed her sash, imagining Lexa frowning disapprovingly at her as she did so. She instead aimed for something far less conspicuous, still aware of the controversy it would create. 

She just couldn’t help it. 

She didn’t want to be Clarke of the Ark, or Klark kom Trikru. She wanted to be nobody and nothing, without any ties at all. 

She wore a hood, less regal than the one before it, and made off through the rear of the tower, for stables. 

Lexa would have it in for her when she found out, but Clarke assumed she’d be spending the whole day in meetings anyway. 

* * *

“If you send military forces to the area where the ship has landed, I will personally see to it that whoever issues the orders will be publicly hanged.” Lexa snarled across the throne room, tired after hours and hours of the same roundabout questions. 

“You’d prioritize these...these...trespassers over the members of your own alliance?” The ambassador from Azgeda threw back his chin in defiance. 

“All for that  _ houmon  _ of hers.” Another man in the back chuckled, but it was not friendly. 

Someone else, in hushed whispers, “Heda’s  _ skaiwhore _ .” 

“ENOUGH.” Lexa seethed, slamming her fist down on the table. 

Anya’s eyes widened from the back, where she’d been overseeing things, and she shot Lexa a glance. 

Lexa ignored it. 

“We will do as I say because  _ I am the commander!”  _ Lexa roared. “If you don’t agree with my decisions, I beckon you forth! In front of everyone, declare it, and in front of everyone, I will make you bleed. Is that understood?!” Lexa roared with all the patience of a tyrant. 

The room fell silent. 

Titus glanced at Anya, and then nodded. 

“We reconvene at sunrise tomorrow.” Titus announced. 

Anya glanced at Lexa, and then nodded her head. 

Lexa watched, closing her eyes for a moment, and letting out a huff of air. 

Somehow, her ambassadors were right. 

Certainly not about Clarke, or questioning her choices. 

But about her priorities, and  _ why  _ they might have been biased. 

Lexa shook her thoughts away, knowing that meeting with Anya would be just the remedy. 

* * *

In a clash of dulled steel, Anya and Lexa sparred in Polis’ many training grounds, this one away from the bustle of the city, where onlookers would certainly delight in watching the Commander spar. 

“You’re uncertain.” Anya stated, as she swung, Lexa dodging neatly. 

Lexa scowled. “If I’m so uncertain, why am I fending you off so easily?” 

Anya rolled her eyes. “Not about fighting.” She jabbed, and Lexa parried with ease. 

Truthfully, it had taken years for Lexa to best her, but it was a necessary feat to win the conclave, and Anya couldn’t have been prouder of her previous-second. 

Lexa sighed, dropping her sword purposefully. 

“We aren’t done.” Anya pointed out. 

“My mind is racing. It’s useless.” Lexa panted. 

Anya sighed, dropping her sword as well. “Do you wish to speak about it?” 

Lexa wore a faint, amused smile. 

“What?” Anya questioned, slightly defensive. 

“You once told me, at the beginning of our training, never to tell you anything that wasn’t about survival.” 

Anya smirked. “I couldn’t have you distracted.” She prodded Lexa’s side, a rare show of playfulness for the older woman. 

“And now?” Lexa glanced at her. 

“I still can’t.” Anya mused. “It would make protecting you a monumental task.” 

Lexa rubbed her temples.

“I take it your meeting was...unsatisfactory?” Anya prodded. 

“They were hostile.” 

“As expected.” 

“I thought having one of...their own...would somehow change that.” 

“And?” 

“They acted as if I took her hostage. As if we were barbaric.” She snorted. “Mind you, after we saved their lives.” 

“And Clarke?” 

“Distraught.” 

“Heavy is the shoulder who bears the pauldron.” 

“I see you’ve been reading up on nonsensical old world traditions.” 

“Nonsensical?” 

“The world ended in war, did it not, Anya?” 

“If the world ended, Leksa, how are we still here?” 

Lexa cracked a little smile at their sparring, now turned verbal. “I suppose you’re right. This certainly isn’t the afterlife we were promised.” 

Anya wore a rare grin. “I’m always right, Leksa. When will you learn?” 

* * *

By nightfall, Lexa grew irritated, but it was mostly a facade for her worry. 

She rode out to the gates almost immediately, when she’d heard of Clarke’s disappearance, and nearly tore the guard on duty in half. 

“Wanheda.” She demanded. 

The guard had the gall to look confused, at least. 

Clarke must have done something to win his loyalty. 

“Do not make me repeat myself.” Lexa snapped. 

“Niylah’s trading post.” He muttered shamefully. 

Lexa grunted something vague and spurred on in the direction of the shack, newly irritated for entirely different reasons. 

At least Clarke was safe. 

* * *

Niylah handed Clarke a cup of hot tea as they watched the sun bleed away into the evening, sitting outside the steps of her trading post. 

“You should leave.” Niylah reminded, though it was more cautionary than malicious. 

Clarke grimaced. “I’ve annoyed you long enough.” She agreed. 

Niylah frowned, putting a hand on Clarke’s knee. “That was not my intention, Klark.” 

Clarke wore a sad smile, leaning back. “I’ll leave after this cup.” 

“The items you requested are already wrapped. I can strap them to your saddle.” 

“Thank you.” Clarke dipped her head gratefully. 

“Your troubles won’t haunt you forever.” Niylah reminded, then, breaking Clarke from her melancholic reverie. 

“I can’t help but...feel alone, somehow.” Clarke almost whispered the confession. “I...wondered if you felt the same. When you left your kru-”

“And that’s why you sought me out, today.” Niylah finished sagely. 

Clarke reddened. “Well, that, and I enjoy your company.” 

Niylah gave her a comforting smile. 

“You’re not like the other Trikru people.” Clarke thought aloud. 

“I don’t live in Polis.” Niylah corrected. 

“You don’t expect...certain things of me. That they all do. And you’re not...I don’t know.” Clarke shrugged, looking sheepish. 

“It’s natural to feel a divide, Clarke.” Niylah whispered. “But all one can do is hope to mend it.” 

“How?” Clarke asked meekly. “All I see are irreconcilable differences. I feel as if everyone in the coalition must hate me, and my own people don’t trust me.” 

“You expected immediate progress?” Niylah asked. “From what you told me of your people, in the sky, they were harsh with their ways.” 

Clarke rubbed her temples. “They did give me the death sentence.” Clarke laughed humorlessly. “But they think the Grounders are savages. They said as much. My own mother…” 

Niylah smiled sadly. “You can see the irony in that statement, at least.” 

“But how can I get them to see?” 

“You can make them see, in time.” Niylah promised. “They need to understand what their existence will mean, here on the ground. Their judgements will be altered, when they realize the threat of Azgeda.” 

“Did you...feel this way?” Clarke approached the subject tentatively. “When your mother and father ran with you-” 

“A Trikru and Azgeda warrior falling in love before the coalition...that was certain death. And I? The product of their treason? Yes, Klark. I felt similarly.” 

“Was it lonely?” Clarke whispered. 

Niylah smiled comfortingly. “They were allowed to open this post, and I would so look forward to those who would come in and out. From each journey, I would see a glimpse of each person. I used to live vicariously through them.” 

Clarke’s heart ached for the young girl. 

“In a sense, my burden was easier than yours, Klark.” Niylah mused. “I did not have allegiance to either clan.” 

“I do.” Clarke whispered, mind thinking of Lexa. 

“Yes.” Niylah rose, suddenly. “And it would seem your greatest ally is here.” 

Clarke’s gaze flicked up as the sound of hooves beating the dirt path sounded, and indeed, Lexa was riding out, all tensed and powerful, hood pulled over her head. 

From that alone, Clarke could tell that this was an impromptu trip. 

Lexa was worried about her. 

Clarke stood, slowly meeting Lexa’s gaze. 

She looked incredibly displeased. 

“Heda.” Niylah bowed before darting into the post. “I will retrieve Klark’s items.” 

“Klark?” Lexa echoed, eyes narrowed. 

“Wanheda.” Niylah dipped her head. “Forgive me.” 

With that, Clarke and Lexa were left alone. 

“You don’t need to do that.” Clarke huffed. 

Lexa’s lips were pursed. “You do  _ not  _ leave without telling me, Klark.” 

Clarke knew she was in the wrong, but she felt the beginnings of defiance rippling within her. “Why?” She challenged. 

“Because I  _ worry  _ and we are on the brink of war.” Lexa growled. 

Clarke softened then, realizing how foolish she was being. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, as Lexa stepped off the saddle. 

“Why did you leave?” Lexa asked, gently this time. 

“I...I needed to be away from all of...that.” She gestured vaguely to Polis, and didn’t miss the look of hurt in Lexa’s eyes. 

“And you came...here?” Lexa questioned. 

Clarke bit back a response. “Niylah’s a friend. She-” 

Niylah reappeared, carrying the items Clarke requested. “It’ll only take a moment to strap-” 

“That’s alright.” Clarke murmured, taking them from her hand. “I’ll carry them.” 

It was better not to tease Lexa further, with her presence. 

Niylah paused. “Right…” She handed Clarke the items. “Wanheda.” She dipped her head. “Heda.” She turned, but Clarke caught her hand, squeezing softly. 

“Thank you.” Clarke murmured, and Niylah gave her a soft smile before turning away. 

Once the wooden door was firmly shut, Clarke turned to Lexa, who regarded her with a steely gaze, and narrowed eyes. 

“Do  _ not _ be jealous.” Clarke tsked. “I was here for you.” 

“Oh?” Lexa pressed. 

Clarke tried hard to hide her amusement. 

Clarke sighed, opening one of the pouches she’d been given. Holding up a vial, she waved it in front of Lexa’s nose. 

“Lavender oil.” Lexa mumbled, almost in a trance. 

Clarke bit back her laughter. 

“I lied, then. I came here for  _ us _ .” She murmured, enjoying the way Lexa’s eyes darkened.

She eyed the particularly long item, wrapped in leathers. 

“You ruin every surprise.” Clarke heaved a sigh dramatically, drawing out a perfectly polished sword, balanced, sharpened, with an engraving on the hilt. 

Lexa’s eyes widened. “You…” 

“Had this made for you.” Clarke murmured. “It took some bartering, but Niylah and I found a smith up for the job.” 

Lexa’s expression softened even more. Clarke pulled her forward by the edges of her coat, regal and lined with fur. 

Lexa dipped her head, moving to kiss Clarke with all the words she couldn’t express, and Clarke smiled, despite her sadness, into the kiss. 

Lexa broke apart only when she was out of breath, resting her forehead against Clarke’s. 

“I worry.” She apologized in a soft whisper. And then, adding, “You always did like to cause me anxiety.” With a little smile of amusement. 

Clarke smiled back, accepting Lexa’s help as she got onto the horse, Lexa climbing on behind her. Once their items were tucked away safely, and Lexa’s arms were protectively around Clarke, she spurred the horse back on towards Polis. 

* * *

Clarke was laying on the bed, sprawled out amongst the furs, watching as Lexa undid the braids from her hair, already in her night dress. 

Clarke enjoyed watching the transformation from Heda to Leksa, how each braid and piece of armor, (both literal and emotional) would come off, until she was left bare, beautiful and exposed. 

Just for Clarke. 

Only for Clarke. 

“Klark.” Lexa mused from where she stood, slowly making her way over to the bed. 

“Hmm?” Clarke hummed, reaching for her wife. She frowned when Lexa paused, and sensed a more serious conversation was coming. 

“I…” Lexa took a breath. “About what your mother said. Today.” 

Clarke immediately got up onto her knees, coming face to face with Lexa. 

“You know none of that has any merit.” Clarke spoke in a fierce whisper, cupping Lexa’s cheeks. 

“I…do. But, Klark, if you had to go so far as to seek out Niylah in times of distress, I-” 

Clarke cut her off. 

“Leksa.” She whispered. “I wasn’t running from you.” She sighed, rubbing her thumbs against high cheekbones, jawlines that could cut steel. “I….I just wanted advice. From someone who’s been torn, between two...alliances.” 

Lexa nodded slowly. 

“Leksa. You have to understand. It’s not just my old people and my new ones. It’s…” 

“Me.” Lexa finished for her. 

“Yes. And I know that you, being the Commander, have to put your people first. And Leksa, I can’t ask you not to. Not as  _ Wanheda _ .” 

“But as Klark?” Lexa whispered. 

“...I do.” Clarke sighed somberly. 

“And that…” Lexa whispered, arms snaking around Clarke’s waist. “Is why I love you, Klark.” 

Clarke let out a little gasp of surprise at Lexa’s words. 

Once again, where she expected derision, she found none. 

When would she learn? 

“I did not fall in love with Wanheda.” Lexa murmured. “Those are titles given to us in moments we cannot take back. I fell in love with you, Klark, because of your heart. Your ideals of right and wrong. You strive for peace. As your wife, or not, I would be foolish to ignore that.” Lexa made Clarke shudder as her fingers danced along Clarke’s spine. “Do you understand?” She whispered. 

Clarke nodded, surging forward, pulling Lexa down into a heated kiss. Lexa smiled against her lips, and Clarke smiled back, the two practically grinning as Clarke pulled her beneath the furs. 

Lexa had no expectations of her, other than to follow what she believed. 

Clarke wasn’t sure what she believed in, in that moment. 

But she was sure that she believed in Lexa. 

And she would follow Lexa anywhere. 

* * *

Lexa was facedown in the furs, practically purring as Clarke rubbed the heated oil onto her back, while straddling her, taking time to catch every exposed area of her wife’s tan backside. 

Clarke had a system, of course. 

Kisses first, hands following with oil, making sure every inch of Lexa’s back was well cared for. 

Lexa would constantly moan and whine her approval, which only serve to spur Clarke on entirely. 

“You’re tense.” Clarke noted softly, working on a knot in Lexa’s back. 

Lexa groaned in response. 

“Are you going to tell me why?” Clarke chuckled, voice husky. 

“Training.” Lexa replied, muffled by the furs. 

“Ah.” Clarke nodded, realizing it was how Lexa worked her frustrations out. “Poor Anya.” 

Lexa let out a little laugh into the furs. 

“I remember sparring with you.” Clarke mused. “You never tried.” 

Lexa tilted her head up. “I couldn’t.” She said simply. 

Clarke eyed each tattoo on Lexa’s back, remembering the conclave with a sick feeling.

“I would get mad.” Clarke whispered. “When you didn’t try.” 

“I know.” Came Lexa’s response. 

“I thought you were trying to undermine me. That I wasn’t worth your time.” Clarke sighed, kissing her shoulders. 

“What changed your mind?” Lexa teased. 

Clarke hummed in thought. 

“Do you remember when Azgeda raided that trading post? Not Niylah’s, the one to the east?” 

Lexa hummed her affirmative response. 

“We were running, and my leg got caught under a branch. And all of the other Trikru warriors just...stared. And they ran.” 

“Branwadas.” Lexa grumbled. 

Clarke smiled. “The attack turned out to be a lot further than where we were. But I remember, when you couldn’t get my leg free, you drew your dagger and waited beside me.” 

“Idiot that I was.” Lexa mumbled. “I should have-” 

“We were young.” Clarke whispered. “And then, the healer told me that  _ maybe  _ you were following me because you  _ liked  _ me, and wanted to protect me, rather than antagonize me.” 

Lexa chuckled. “Was I truly so unromantic that my actions were misconstrued so poorly?” 

Clarke kissed the back of her neck, marking softly, making Lexa moan before detaching. 

“No.” She replied mirthfully. “But there was always Costia.” 

Lexa sighed. “Houmon, how many times-” 

“You were jealous of Niylah.” Clarke smirked, enjoying the silence that followed. She got Lexa there. 

Clarke leaned back, slowly rocking her hips against Lexa’s rounded ass, enjoying the way Lexa’s body responded to hers. 

“Are you relaxed?” Clarke whispered. 

Lexa nodded. 

“Good.” Clarke murmured. “I just want to forget everything, today. Except you. I want to remember you.” 

Clarke leaned against Lexa, the two of them bare without their clothes on. She continued to grind softly as she leaned forward, planting her arms on either side of her wife, her breasts dragging against Lexa’s back. 

Lexa’s groan of pleasure was enough to make Clarke smirk. 

“I want to see you.” Lexa’s pout was audible. 

Clarke chuckled. 

Always a romantic. 

She leaned forward to whisper in Lexa’s ear. “You don’t want to  _ feel  _ me?” 

Lexa shuddered. “That too.” 

Clarke slipped off, and instead changed her position with Lexa’s, lying on her back, feeling Lexa come to straddle her. 

Lexa bent down, kissing Clarke’s chin, and then her jaw, inching up to her lips as their noses brushed together. 

“ _ Ai hod yu in.”  _ Lexa whispered. “ _ Mochof.”  _

Clarke grinned against her lips, tangling her fingers in Lexa’s wavy hair. 

“I love you, Leksa.” She replied softly, pulling her wife down on top of her, already encouraging Lexa’s subconscious grinding. “You’re welcome.” 

Lexa leaned down, burying her face in Clarke’s neck at first, and then began placing wet, open-mouthed kisses there, leaving marks all across her neck. 

Perhaps not the best idea with the impending negotiations, but Lexa couldn’t bring herself to care. 

Clarke was hers, and she wanted everyone to know. 

Clarke shuddered beneath her, hands guiding Lexa’s hips as she continued to kiss and suck at the tender skin of her neck. 

Lexa’s hips found a rhythm, and soon, she was breathing a little harder into the crook of Clarke’s neck, inhaling her wife’s sweet scent. 

“ _ Jok.”  _ Lexa whispered, as Clarke’s hands began sliding up to her pert breasts, palming them needily before narrowing her aim with a pinch to each rosy nipple, begging for attention. 

“ _ Yu ste meizen _ .” Clarke whispered, breathless. 

In every little action, it was clear how much she adored the woman in her arms. In the little kisses, the whispers of adoration, the way her hips bucked and her breath hitched, the way she grew wet, needy, impatient at the sight of her. 

“ _ Klark _ .” Lexa whispered, and Clarke nodded, lingering on Lexa’s lips. 

“You first.” Clarke pleaded, feeling some carnal desire to have Lexa come apart on her fingers, flush against her body, where she could hear every gasp, feel every heartbeat, every tremor. 

Lexa nodded, feeling Clarke’s fingers slide between her thighs, grazing them with her nails as she cupped Lexa’s soaked folds, drawing a gasp from her. 

“You’re so wet.” Clarke whispered reverently. 

Lexa could barely utter a response before Clarke sunk two fingers inside of her wet heat, curling her fingers against Lexa’s inner wall.

Lexa clenched down around her, gasping at Clarke’s slow pumping motion as Clarke carefully added a third finger, watching her writhe. 

“Are you going to come for me, Leksa?” Clarke whispered, her free hand moving to slide down to the delicious round curve of Lexa’s ass, palming. 

Lexa’s whine was music to her ears. 

“ _ Beja, Klark.”  _ Lexa pleaded her wife softly, uncharacteristically, and Clarke obliged, sliding the free hand down her hip, to the stiffened bud of her clit. 

Lexa yelped and sighed into her shoulder as Clarke began a tight circular motion, varying her pressure as she pressed down. 

“ _ Ai hod yu in _ . _ ” _ Clarke mumbled, leaning up to tug on Lexa’s bottom lip, her fingers thrusting and circling with newfound intensity. 

Lexa was coming undone on her, and Clarke felt her clench down on her fingers, curled up and scraping against her front wall. Suddenly she was clenching rapidly, a gush of wetness coating Clarke’s fingers as she met her starry eyed lover’s gaze. Lexa’s mouth formed a little “oh” in pleasure, and then her eyes closed, savoring the feeling, she rocked on Clarke’s fingers until she could feel no more. 

Clarke closed her own eyes, ignoring the feeling between her legs, as she rocked Lexa down from her high, slowly sliding her fingers out, bringing them to her own lips to taste. 

When she glanced back up, Lexa’s eyes were darkened, and she was steadying her breathing, sliding down between Clarke’s thighs, kissing her way down, a litany of “Ai hod yu in” spilling from her lips. 

She settled a few kisses on Clarke’s mound, and then began to tease Clarke, drawing her tongue on her inner thigh, leaning down to suckle a kiss into the creamy flesh. Clarke’s fingers found their way in Lexa’s locks once more, and Lexa grinned, leaning down to place an opened mouth kiss against the bud of Clarke’s clit. 

“ _ Ai houmon.” _ Lexa murmured reverently, watching Clarke’s lidded gaze, conquered by both love and lust for the woman in between her spread thighs. “My wife.” 

Clarke closed her eyes, letting the intensity of the words sink in, along with the heavenly kisses Lexa began again, a promise of the pleasure to come. 


	3. Chapter Three

When the first guard was speared through the chest, blood spattering across his Ark uniform, it was dawn. 

Perhaps a little earlier. 

The Ark was silent, save for the crackling of a few fires. 

Equipment lay everywhere, for the fence they were going to construct.

Abby, acting as chancellor, had called for those fences. She’d called for the Ark’s best, Wick, or the young Reyes girl, to find a way to electrify them. 

Dealing with savages was not on her agenda, nor was it in the best interest of her people. 

Perhaps her daughter, but not her people. 

And her daughter’s mind could be changed. 

She’d set up a patrol, and several guard positions along what they decided to be their perimeter, once the fence was set. 

She wasn’t keen on staying in the middle of a clearing, right by the lip of the forest, where anything and everything was lurking, just waiting to clamp its jaws on her people. 

But the Ark couldn’t be moved, and it held too much power for her to simply leave it. 

She’d seen what weapons those savages carried. 

Knives, spears, swords, bows. Nothing a loaded M16 rifle couldn’t fix. 

She ignored the fact that her own thoughts sounded barbaric. She was being a pragmatist, a protector. Surely, anyone with the sense to understand that would know that she was right. 

The second guard fell silently, throat slit, just on top of the post he’d been left at. His wife and children were sleeping in the bunkers directly below him, where the Ark had wedged itself from the fall. 

* * *

Jake was washing his face with the pail of water he and Abby kept in their quarters. 

The chancellor’s quarters. 

He thought it selfish that they had a whole room to themselves (granted, no room was luxurious on the Ark), while the rest of their people shared public spaces. 

But that was the reality of the situation his wife had created. 

He reprimanded himself for thinking that. 

It wasn’t Abby’s fault that they were here. 

_But it was her fault that they were at odds with the most powerful ally they could hope for._

And Clarke. 

God, what was Clarke doing amongst them? 

Jake was proud like he’d never been before. 

His daughter, like some warrior queen, commanding troops, speaking diplomatically, and tactfully. 

And Abby had thought her dead, at some point. 

“You’re thinking about her.” Abby whispered, voice raspy, a hand on his shoulder. 

He turned to face his wife, setting the rag he used to dry off down on his lap as he sat at the corner of their bed. 

“All the time.” Jake confessed, though there was no guilt to it. 

“She’s in danger.” 

“She’s not.” Jake scoffed. “Not more than we are, Abs.” 

Abby smiled faintly at the nickname, squeezing his shoulder. 

“You think I’m going about this the wrong way?” Abby sighed, rubbing her temples. 

Jake looked thoughtful. “...Yes.” 

“Well, that didn’t take you long.” Abby snorted. 

“You married me because I was candid.” Jake smiled, patting the spot on the bed beside him. 

“I married you because you gave me extra rations at meal time.” Abby teased, leaning into his embrace, the cogs in her mind turning audibly. 

Jake kissed her temple, as if trying to relieve the pain. 

“You’re afraid-” 

“Afraid? Jake, they have our _daughter_ -” 

“I don’t think-” 

“What? You don’t think she’s there by choice, do you, Jake? That’s not her world.” Abby pinched the bridge of her nose. “And god knows what they put her through. I...Did you _see_ who she was with? The _commander?_ Jake, she can’t possibly be older than twenty three.” 

Jake licked his lips. “I was promoted to head engineer at eighteen, Abby.” 

Abby turned to glare at him. “Being good at engineering is not the same as holding the fate of an entire people, Jake.” 

“People!” He stressed. “That’s what they are! They can be reasoned with.” He offered, always the optimist. 

“Jake.” Abby turned, cupping his cheek. “I know you always see the good in people, in every situation. It’s why I love you. But this...I need you at my side, Jake. I need your help to get Clarke back from that...those…” 

An explosion rattled the Ark, as sirens began wailing through the metal walls. 

Abby and Jake exchanged looks of panic as they scrambled off the bed, running to get their guns. 

Screams filled the air as they emerged from the main entrance to find a sea of warriors in white, horrific scars adorning their faces. 

“Get the guard out!” Abby’s cry pierced the air when she saw that the emergency alarm had been tripped. 

An arrow flew past her head, missing her by inches. 

Jake had shoved her to the ground, breathing hard on top of her.

They were moments away from a massacre. 

* * *

Clarke drew the arrow back, bowstring tensed, ready to send the arrow whistling in the air, to pierce her target’s soft flesh. 

Years ago, when Clarke first tried to hunt, she’d been weak, humiliated, and afraid. 

So much had changed. 

_“You’ve watched enough.” Anya shoved the bow into her hands, groaning as Clarke accidentally dropped it. She kicked the dirt at Clarke’s feet in annoyance. “Branwada.” She muttered._

_Clarke scowled._

_She’d been ridiculed again and again. It had only been a month or so since her arrival, and by someone’s command, she was taken under Anya’s wing._

_If it could even be called that._

_Anya was brutal, intense, and demanding._

_Clarke wasn’t allowed to speak, unless she was directly spoken to._

_She was expected to run, to train, to study- as the other “natblidas” did._

_The language befuddled Clarke. It was some hybrid of english, she assumed, something shorthand and harsh on the tongue._

_She hated it._

_(Except when Leksa spoke it)._

_Anya would take Leksa out into the forest at dawn to hunt, and she’d drag Clarke along with them, never short on insults to hurl her way._

_Lexa was her golden child, her prodigy._

_She treated Lexa with some warmth, some indecipherable kindness that made Clarke’s heart ache for the Ark. Where she had friends._

_Family._

_A home._

_She was nothing more than a storied intruder here, an extra mouth to be fed, an eyesore to the Grounders._

_She pulled back on the bowstring, and for the millionth time, her arrow landed two feet in front of her._

_Anya was past laughing, so buried in her frustrations that she couldn’t even begin to form words. She stalked off, without another word._

_The other natblidas, which Clarke had not noticed, took up audience behind her._

_They were bastards, all of them._

_Cackling the minute Clarke turned around, the sting of tears in her eyes._

_Each one, she swore she’d kill, if she ever got a gun in her hands._

_A pistol, from the Ark. Something solid, and heavy, so she could fire and empty rounds into their chests that heaved with laughter at her failure. She’d fire until they were all on the floor, their smiles wiped off their faces._

_She wouldn’t show any empathy._

_They never did for her._

_They were all mocking her. Caelum, Derrick, Luna- some of them weren’t even natblidas. Costia (whom Clarke internally referenced as “the pretty one”) was standing beside Leksa._

_Her smile held no malice, but it didn’t sit well with Clarke._

_Leksa frowned disapprovingly, shaking her head at her peers._

_“Enough.” She decided aloud, and being the most dangerous one there, the others seemed to listen._

_It wasn’t a huge step in the way of defending Clarke..._

_But that was Leksa._

_Cold, often quite, a very serious pupil. She only ever wore her grins of amusement in secret moments with Anya, where they thought no one could see them._

_A chorus of “ooooh” filled the air around them, and to Clarke, so unnerved and frustrated, it felt as if it rattled the trees around them._

_Lexa’s jaw tightened._

_She didn’t like the prospect of being challenged, it seemed._

_“Gon we.” Lexa uttered lowly._

_When no one moved, Lexa turned and snapped something in trigedasleng, something so fierce and quick that Clarke couldn’t hear it._

_They scampered away, likely retreating back to Polis for their meal._

_Clarke’s stomach growled at the thought._

_God, a meal._

_Anya had told her that she couldn’t eat unless she brought something to the table. Literally. She had to provide her own kill, or starve._

_As Anya had so eloquently put it: The Grounders would waste no more time feeding the mouth of some “splita” who only caused them problems._

_Clarke didn’t admit it, but she’d gone to her tent and cried a lot, that night._

_She wished she’d die, just to feel like she’d belong somewhere, because on the off-chance that there was a heaven, it surely had to be better than this._

_Clarke realized she was alone, staring down Leksa with an intense gaze. She tried to stand taller, squaring her shoulders._

_The lean, muscled girl could tear her apart in an instant._

_Maybe this was Clarke’s ticket out._

_“Why’d you send your friends away?” Clarke snarled. “They’d like you better after they saw you beat me.”_

_Lexa snorted, looking affronted._

_She muttered something in trigedasleng, and when she noticed Clarke’s scowl, repeated it in english._

_“I’m not going to beat you.”_

_Clarke’s brows shot up. What, then? Berate her? Tell her to join some other clan? Make her carry Lexa’s sword and polish it?_

_Lexa’s eyes bore into her own._

_“I’m going to have to kill them.” She stated very seriously, hands still at her sides._

_Clarke froze. “We all dream about it.” She rolled her eyes._

_“Do you know why we are natblidas?” Lexa pressed, stepping into Clarke’s space. “Do you know what our training will ultimately result in?”_

_Clarke shook her head, blinking away the moisture in her eyes._

_Lexa looked left, and then right, lowering her voice._

_In an act of foolish, childlike naivety, Lexa decided to tell her. Whether it was trust or pity, Clarke never knew._

_“We will all be pitted against one another. It is how the next commander is chosen.” Lexa whispered._

_Clarke gaped, unable to process the information._

_“Anya told me.” Lexa confided._

_“Why are you telling me this?” Clarke demanded, suddenly on edge._

_Lexa’s eyes settled on her lips. “Forgive them, Clarke. Their time here is limited, though they may not know it.”_

_Clarke’s chest heaved with a heavy feeling she’d come to know as guilt._

_“...So?”_

_Lexa shrugged._

_Clarke scoffed, shaking her head. “It doesn’t give them the right to torment people.”_

_Lexa’s lip curled in amusement. “And who has tormented you, Klark of the sky people?”_

_Clarke glared. “You! Anya! Everyone!”_

_“You think this is torment?” Lexa snickered._

_Clarke grit her teeth. “Don’t give me some bullshit about how you know real pain because you’re a natblida. My family is thousands upon thousands of miles away, I’m stuck here with you savages, and-”_

_Lexa bent to retrieve the arrow._

_“What are you doing?” Clarke growled._

_“I, too, know what it is like to be an outsider. A Splita.” Lexa clarified, clearing her throat. “I did not tell you about the natblidas for pity, Clarke. Do you know how it is that we are found?”_

_Clarke shook her head, falling silent._

_“My nomon- my mother. I never knew her. From what I hear, she loved me very much.” Lexa murmured remorsefully, twirling the bow in her hands absently._

_Clarke’s eyes widened in realization. “They took you.” She whispered._

_Lexa nodded slowly. “To those who do not submit their child, when they are found to be natblidas, they are taken. By force. I’ve been training in Polis with Anya since I was old enough to walk.” Lexa leaned forward, in Clarke’s space. “I was originally not from a clan at all. My mother was a farmer, outside of the Eastern border. This is not my home.”_

_Clarke sucked in a breath. “I...I see.” She whispered._

_Lexa’s hand, the free one, brushed hers. “Survival is something you learn for your own benefit, Clarke. No one else’s, though it may seem so.”_

_“You’re...wiser than you look-” Clarke was cut off by Lexa’s hand covering her lips._

_She motioned with her hands to the bushes under a nearby tree, where something was rattling. She put a finger over her lips, indicating to Clarke to be quiet ._

_Clarke looked helpless. She took the bow as Lexa handed it to her, but still, she knew it’d just be another failure._

_Lexa seemed to pick up on this, slowly, very carefully making her way behind Clarke, careful for her boots not to make a sound against the fallen leaves._

_Clarke’s breath hitched as Lexa slid her arms around her, gripping at the bow._

_Oh, god, she was going to show Clarke how to do it._

_Probably give her some routine talk about steadying her breath, taking aim, and-_

_Clarke hadn’t even realized Lexa had released the arrow, and her hands, until she heard a sort of shriek from the bushes._

_Lexa looked up with a glint in her eyes, her lip curling in amusement._

_She reached for the dagger in her belt, handing it to Clarke._

_“Put it out of its misery.” She suggested wryly, watching Clarke grimace at the shrieks of despair._

_(Clarke ate rabbit stew that night.)_

“Your skill with the bow is unparalleled.” Lexa whispered in her ear, the two riding on the same horse, their hunting party carrying the kills behind them, chests puffed out with pride. 

Clarke shook her head, leaning back against Lexa’s grip. 

“I learned from the best.” Clarke murmured, already tired, though it was barely dawn. 

“Anya?” Lexa quipped. 

“You, _asshole_.” Clarke hissed teasingly. “You laughed at me.” 

“I did _not_. I scowled.” 

“You ridiculed me.” 

“I worried that you would starve.” 

“How romantic.” 

“I was a child, Klark. I did not know affection. I thought I was going to die.” Lexa reminded. 

“But you didn’t.” Clarke murmured, just barely heard above the clatter of the hooves. She leaned back, settling in Lexa’s embrace. 

Gone were the days where their public shows of affection couldn’t be tolerated. 

Now, as Heda and Wanheda, the queens of the clans, it was their law to live by. 

Lexa’s arms were tight around Clarke as she rested her chin on her shoulder, breathing in her scent, mixed with the smell of the pine from the woods surrounding them. 

“I had good reason to stay.” Lexa’s murmur was choked off when Clarke brought one of her hands to her lips to kiss her knuckles sweetly. 

The two rode on the path, lost in their own little world, satisfied with the results of their labor. Initially, Clarke had thought Lexa would pass on such mundane tasks to her people, when she assumed the role of Commander, but Lexa lived for the small tasks of normalcy. 

Lexa was uncomplicated in the most beautiful way. 

She lived for the thrill of the hunt, for the glory of riding back with spoils to feed her people, and more than all- she lived for being with Clarke. 

Spending time with the love of her life outside the city walls, where her duties could not reach them, where the only thing she needed to focus on was her wife’s gaze. 

“I’m going to enjoy the feast tonight.” Lexa declared victoriously. 

Clarke smirked. “Is your pride showing, Commander?” 

Lexa smiled into her hair. “No. Not because I’ll be sitting at the head of the table, in front of all the ambassadors, watching them enjoy my spoils.” 

Clarke laughed softly. “Why else, then?” 

“Because, _ai houmon_ , I’m going to barricade us in my chambers, with only a small entrance for plates of food to be shoved in and out of my door.” Lexa whispered in her ear. “And I intend to _eat_.” 

Clarke shivered, leaning back into her slightly. “Already thinking about tonight? It’s barely dawn.”

“Klark, with you, I can only hope to-” 

Lexa’s voice was cut off by the sound of an explosion. 

A distant explosion, farther away in the adjacent woods. 

Lexa’s eyes widened as the horses nervously halted. Her guard came to form a protective circle around her, fully on alert. 

“Artigas.” Lexa demanded. “Which direction?”

Artigas, an expert scout, with an eye and ear for the hunt, and an incredible knowledge of these woods, turned. “East.” He confirmed. 

Clarke felt a knot of dread in her stomach. 

“The Ark.” She whispered. 

Lexa’s brows shot up. “You think-” 

“Yes, Lexa. I need to go!” Clarke pleaded. 

Lexa nodded, turning to Artigas. “Rally with the party to the north, and ride out. Come armed.” She snapped. “You- take the kill to Polis. Alert Indra of the situation. The rest of you- ride with me. Wait for my command.” 

They nodded, and Lexa was already spurring her horse to a gallop, riding into the storm, all because Clarke asked her to. 

* * *

“We’re pinned!” Jake heaved, Jake’s body down against Abby. 

“Where are the _fucking_ guards?!” Abby demanded. 

She glanced behind her, at the entrance where they’d come from. 

As if on cue, the Ark guards had arrived, armed with their rifles, firing off rounds as they tried to push back Azgeda’s forces. 

A man with floppy hair led the charge, his eyes locked on the targets ahead of him. 

“Chancellor.” He reported, occasionally still firing. 

Abby scrambled up. “How many?!” She demanded.

“Hard to tell. We need to push on the offense, but those spears will cut through half our people.” He advised. 

“Son, we need to trap them!” Another booming voice rang out from behind. Charles Pike stood behind him, clutching his rifle like a lifeline. “Surround them on the border. And someone needs to put out that damn electrical fire!” 

“Reyes!” Abby demanded. “Someone fetch me Reyes!” 

“What...what about prisoners? For questioning? Who are these people?” Jake demanded, arm protectively around his wife. 

“They’re the lying fucks who offered us a peace treaty, that’s who!” Pike spat. 

“I don’t think-” Jake was cut off. 

Limping through the hallway, Raven had appeared, breathless. “What the fuck is going on?” she demanded. “Was that a generator?” 

“I don’t-” Abby cut off as an arrow flew past, and once again, the floppy haired one opened fire, his jaw locked. 

“We’re trapped.” He shook his head. “We have to fall back and get the main door closed!” 

“There are _kids_ out there!” Raven snarled. “Bell, what the hell are you talking about?” 

“They’re going to mow us down.” Bellamy shook his head. 

Pike eyed Abby up and down. “Your call, _chancellor_.” The word had unmistakable bite to it, and before Abby could question it, she felt sweat bead at her brow. 

Kill the children outside by leaving them to their deaths? Or worse? 

Close the door and play a coward? 

Sacrifice her only standing people instead? 

Suddenly, she felt dizzy, thankful for Jake’s supportive hand on the small of her back. 

“I…” Abby began. “I think-” 

“ _Kom war!”_ The shout was unmistakable. 

Abby couldn’t believe her eyes. 

In front of her, right in front of the entire damn ship, rode her daughter, and the Commander who’d been costing her so much sleep. 

It was a sight to behold. Like two goddesses of war, blades drawn, they leapt off the horse, right into the thick of it all. 

Abby swallowed her cry of _“Clarke!”_

Raven’s eyes widened as she clutched Bellamy’s shoulder. “Holy shit, is that…?” 

“Clarke fucking Griffin.” Bellamy breathed, watching as the blonde moved in tandem with the Commander at her side, quickly swallowed by a mixture of Trikru and Azgeda warriors. 

Clarke was practically dancing as she deflected each blow with the clang of metal, ducking and weaving, her footwork exceptional as she and Lexa remained back to back, pressed against each other to avoid any weak sides. 

The two moved like a flurry, slashing their way through the now panicked Azgeda fighters. 

Abby watched as one of them had gotten to a vantage point and readied a spear to hurl at Clarke. 

Her eyes found Clarke, busy fending off the attacks of another soldier, and she and Jake screamed as the spear met the air. 

Once more, for that early morning, Abby couldn’t believe what she was seeing. 

It was surreal to watch. 

The Commander, eyes alert, sharply taking everything in, _caught_ the spear. 

She caught the fucking spear inches away from Clarke’s body, and twirled it with her free hand, before utilizing it to skewer the woman in front of her, watching her fall to the ground with a satisfied thump. 

It was a sight to behold. 

“You good?” Lexa gritted back at Clarke. 

“Good.” Clarke confirmed, ducking just in time for another blow before lunging forward with her blade. 

“Someone toss her a gun!” Raven cheered. 

“She doesn’t even need one.” Bellamy muttered, watching as Clarke moved with all the fluidity and grace of a coursing river, overtaking everything in her path with a not so subtle beauty. 

“Scout the sides!” Lexa heaved, as her warriors finished the last few thrusts of their swords, none of them so badly wounded as the Azgeda warriors, bled out, dying before them. 

Lexa stepped forward, eyeing the Azgeda warrior she’d speared, who’d still been choking on her blood. 

“Who sent you?” She demanded, her voice a fierce growl, the tendon on her neck showing from the strain. 

“Nia.” Lexa tried, leaning forward. “Answer me.” She snapped, stepping on the broken end of the spear, digging it deeper into her wound. 

“Yes.” She coughed, eyes rolling back. “Long live the queen.” 

Lexa bit back a growl, and turned to her warriors. 

“All clear.” They murmured, and she nodded her thanks, deeply grateful that they would follow her into any fight, even one that was, perhaps, not theirs to begin with.

Clarke painted, likely still unaware that they’d been watched, and turned to cup Lexa’s cheeks, chest heaving. 

“Are you alright?” She asked softly, and Lexa nodded, drinking in her gaze. 

“Yes. And you?” 

“Fine.” Clarke gave her the ghost of a smile. 

“Your people.” Lexa reminded softly, and Clarke nodded. 

Abby took that as her cue to step forward, and the group behind her tentatively followed. 

Bellamy still had his rifled aimed. 

“Stand down!” Jake snapped, turning his head. “Stand down! They just saved us.” 

“They have Clarke.” Bellamy pointed out, as if confused that Clarke’s own father wasn’t worried. 

“Stand down.” Abby ordered, turning back to Clarke as she approached.

“Mom!” Clarke breathed. “Is everything okay? We were hunting in the woods, and-” 

“You were hunting?” Pike spoke up from the back of the group. 

Lexa, not taking too kindly to the way he interrupted Clarke, regarded him with a glare. “Who are _you_?” She demanded. 

Abby glanced back as Pike squared up his stance, moving to stand before Lexa. “Charles Pike. And I’m curious about who _you_ are.” 

“Well, _Charles Pike_ …” Lexa drawled. “If you can wait to be spoken to, I’m sure I can give you answers.” 

Pike growled, and Jake put up his hands. “Enough!” 

“No, no.” Pike challenged. “I want to hear more about how they were so conveniently in the _neighborhood_ when our people started _dying_.” 

Lexa bristled. “You don’t mean to suggest-” 

“I _do_ .” Pike challenged. “I _accuse_.”

Lexa went livid, Clarke keeping her from surging forward. 

Clarke glared. “Enough! We just saved everybody! Lexa risked her own people. For your safety! And- Bellamy? Raven?” Clarke trailed off, mouth opening. 

“Clarke fucking Griffin.” Raven grinned, and Bellamy smiled. “The girl who fell to Earth and lived to tell about it.” 

“Abby, that’s your daughter?” Pike turned to Abby incredulously. “That explains much.” 

Abby was rubbing her temples, clearly overwhelmed. “Everyone, _please-_ remain calm. I need to explain this to our people. And then-” She turned to Clarke. “We need to talk.” 

“Talk?” Clarke echoed. 

“Clarke. Come inside the Ark. We have a room.” Jake insisted, clearly imagining what could happen if this went the wrong way. He wanted his daughter out of everyone’s line of sight. 

Clarke glanced at Lexa, who gave a single, curt nod, and finally acquiesced. 

“Stay.” Abby glanced at Lexa, and Clarke didn’t bother containing the growl that rumbled within her throat. 

“Where I go, she goes.” Clarke snapped. 

Abby looked taken aback, but Jake nodded. 

“Of course.” 

Abby shot a caustic gaze in her husband’s direction, a surefire sign of the storm to come. 

* * *

“Your walls are tin.” Lexa whispered, slightly in awe, and partially in disgust as she knocked against the wall of the Chancellor’s bedroom in the Ark.

Jake and Abby had offered their room as a place of solace to Clarke and Lexa as the war raged on outside. 

Not the war of fighting, per se, but the war of the words. 

Pike, whomever the fuck he was, seemed to want Abby’s position. 

Clarke didn’t want to focus on anything else but Lexa, for the time being. 

The more she stayed around “her people”, the more confusing it became. 

“They’re not tin.” Clarke chuckled softly. “They’re metal, though.” 

“There is...no place for light. You cannot stargaze.” Lexa noted softly. 

“No. But you could _Earthgaze_ on the observation deck.” Clarke whispered, coming to wrap her arms around Lexa’s neck. “I was probably gazing down at you, at some point.” 

Lexa was silent, eyes thoughtful, as her hands found Clarke’s waist. 

“I love you, Leksa kom Trikru.” Clarke whispered tenderly. 

“And I you, Klark kom Trikru.” Lexa emphasized the name she liked. “But that does not mean I can give safe passage to those who would rather see my head on a pike.” 

Clarke stilled. “I wouldn’t ask you to.” 

“You know what’s coming.” Lexa inhaled her scent. “War.” 

“I know. And I told you, I don’t have a side but yours.” Clarke tugged her closer. “But if I can prevent this-” 

“And there she is.” Lexa whispered, pressing her against the wall. “Stubborn Ox Clarke Griffin-” 

“Did you just call me an ox?” Clarke teased. 

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Mockery-” 

“My mind is plenty strong, _ai houmon_.” Clarke assured, sucking Lexa’s bottom lip between her own. 

Lexa whined ever so softly, grateful that Clarke was uninjured, and safe in her arms, even if they were on this prison of a ship. 

(And really- it looked like some of Lexa’s prisons). 

“Thank you.” Clarke whispered. “Thank you for fighting, with me, even-” 

“Do not thank me.” Lexa uttered, eyes swimming with adoration. “Klark, if you asked me to die by a thousand cuts for you, I would do it gladly. It is the lives of those I carry that make me weary.” 

Clarke sighed against her lips. “I won’t sacrifice them. Not...not after what I’ve seen today.” 

Lexa leaned back, tilting Clarke’s chin up. “You’re upset.” She noted. 

“I don’t understand what’s gotten into them!” Clarke huffed. 

“Fear.” Lexa whispered. “Fear dominates all the emotions, Clarke. They fear us. They fear their new home.” 

“Why, though?...it’s me.” Clarke whispered, suddenly, and Lexa realized the underlying issue. 

“You are hurt that your mother and father do not instantly trust you.” Lexa noted wisely, nuzzling Clarke’s cheek. “Yes?” 

“Yes.” Clarke sighed, fingers brushing the baby curls at Lexa’s neck. 

“You are not the Klark they left behind. Or, so they think.” Lexa whispered sagely. “Though, they will come to learn, you are the same. Only wiser, skilled.” 

“And in love.” Clarke offered. 

Lexa grinned at the admission. “They won’t appreciate that.” 

“I don’t care.” Clarke replied, breathing in Lexa’s scent. “Lexa...I….” 

“What?” Lexa whispered, stroking her hair. “Anything, Clarke.” 

“I…” She couldn’t find the words. She couldn't go back on her promises, her loyalties were to main undivided. She took that oath when she married Lexa. 

_For better or for worse._

She was all that stood between her people, and all-out war. 

If she couldn’t produce some sort of viable peace within Arkadia, as it had been dubbed, she knew that things would turn very dark, very quickly. 

Lexa nodded slowly, chewing on her lip. 

She feared this day would come. 

The day Clarke’s people would fall from the sky, and rip her _houmon_ from her arms. 

Oh, but they would die trying, first. 

_That_ , Lexa could guarantee. 

* * *

“You’re not seriously considering this.” Abby whispered, she and Jake alone in the armory for the moment, Clarke and Lexa having taken their quarters. 

“Abigail, _listen_.” Jake put his hands on her shoulders, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re headstrong, and you’re bold, but there’s a difference between being weary and wanting to protect your people, and doubting everyone’s motives at risk of paranoia.” Jake rubbed his chin. 

“What are you saying, Jake?” Abby whisper-yelled, clearly frazzled by all that had happened. “I have Jackson running the medbay alone, and people are _dead_. I can’t let that go unignored.” 

“You heard Clarke- that wasn’t her people.” 

“Her people?” Abby scoffed. “Do you hear yourself?” 

“Yes!” Jake snapped. “And you? Following the footsteps of Charles Pike? The Abby I know would _never_ have so blindly-” 

“I’m _not_ the Abby you know!” Abby hissed. “I can’t afford to be! I’m Abby, yes. But more than that, Jacob, I’m chancellor, and that means-” 

“Not getting our people killed!” Jake insisted, incredulous. 

Abby took a moment, her face shaded in the dim lighting, shaking her head. 

“Did you read old world history, Jake?” 

Jake froze, eyes narrowing slightly, clearly puzzled by the sudden question. 

“Wha...what?” He stammered. 

“Did you read the history books, Jake, about the old world?” Abby snapped. 

“Wha- yes, Abby, we had the same schooling!” 

“Then you know how this works.” Abby sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“And what would you liken this to, Abby?” Jake huffed. “In which conflict did the undermanned, undersupplied group win through brute force?” 

Abby took a step forward, her face inches from Jake’s. 

“Look around you.” She whispered. 

Jake blinked, taking in the surroundings. 

Weapons lined the walls- none of them so artfully produced as the ones they’d seen today, but there were certainly a few that made Jake’s head reel. 

From sniper rifles to mines, there were unused tools stored for the express occasion of the Ark’s return to Earth. 

“You don’t mean-” 

“Yes. Jake. I do.” Abby licked her lips. “You saw those...those...savages.” 

“And _this_ is better?” Jake scoffed, livid. “Massacring the indigenous people-” 

“Who said _anything_ about massacring, Jake?” Abby shook her head. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, more than anything. “No- I’m telling you that is what someone like _Charles Pike_ is planning on doing, if people like you and I don’t get it right the first time!” 

Jake nodded. 

Abby was right. 

If they didn’t quell whatever civil unrest was stirring within the confines of their makeshift base, things were going to go south. 

“And what are you suggesting?” Jake finally asked, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I….I miss her, Jake.” Abby whispered, tears in her eyes. 

Jake softened. “Abby, I know. But...she’s here-” 

Abby shook her head. 

Jake knew there was no winning, with her. 

“We strike up an alliance. Temporary.” Abby whispered. “It’ll set Pike off, so we’ll need to be two steps ahead of him.” 

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Temporary?” 

“Enough for these so called clans to wipe each other out.” 

“Abby…” 

“I want control, Jake. This is the only way I can ensure that everyone comes out of this alive.” 

“You mean everyone _we_ know.” 

* * *

“I want you to stay by me.” Clarke whispered in Lexa’s ear, as they began to emerge from the tunneled halls of the Ark, to the outside, where everyone had gathered, once the all-clear was given. “Do _not_ let anyone get a rise out of you, Lexa. The last thing we need is to break our extremely fragile hopes of an alliance.” 

Lexa’s eyes narrowed. 

Clarke turned to her, sensing her annoyance. 

“Please.” Clarke whispered, and in an instant, Lexa was standing down, hands at her side, balled into fists. 

Clarke discreetly brought her hand beside Lexa’s, reaching out to link pinkies. 

The touch instantly warmed Lexa’s demeanor. 

“I...I just want to see them.” Clarke admitted gently, voice hoarse as they emerged into the sunlight. 

“Your friends?” Lexa asked carefully. 

“I wouldn’t say that about all of them. But yes, they were the people I grew up with, in some capacity.” 

“You grew up with me.” Lexa’s protest melted Clarke’s heart. 

“The years that mattered, I spent by your side.” Clarke admitted, stomach dropping when she saw Lexa’s ghost of a smile. 

Clarke approached the meeting point by the makeshift stables that Raven had mentioned earlier. 

She stiffened as she approached, making out exactly who was there with wide eyes. 

It was like walking into another class on the Ark. 

Lexa felt her stiffen, and Clarke could feel her already worrying. 

There, before her eyes, were people she thought she’d never see again. 

Raven Reyes and Bellamy Blake, she’d seen earlier. Younger, looking distracted, was Octavia Blake, Bellamy’s younger sister. 

For so long, she’d been hidden away, until she was discovered by a guard patrol. 

One of Clarke’s last memories on the Ark was Bellamy pleading for Octavia to take Clarke’s place as a civilian, since she was due for arrest. 

Chills shot through Clarke’s spine. 

Flanking her on either side were Monty Green and Jasper Jordan, the Ark’s resident nerds. 

With a hand on Raven’s shoulder, there was Clarke’s once-upon-a-time crush, Finn Collins. 

The only one missing was John Murphy. 

“Clarke.” Bellamy was the first to clear his throat, and the rest of the group turned. 

At once, Clarke felt the intensity of their gazes boring into her, into Lexa. 

If they were supposed to be less judgemental than the other citizens, they didn’t show it. While they didn’t frown, they didn’t smile, either, and Clarke didn’t know what to think. 

Until she realized they were frowning at Lexa, not her. 

Lexa, to her credit, barely flinched, regally regarding them with a gaze of pure ice. 

Fantastic. 

“Hi.” Clarke began, lamely. “...Everyone.” 

And then, they lunged. 

Clarke could _hear_ Lexa reach for her sword, and then sink it back into its sheath, when it appeared that they were hugging her. 

The only one who sat back was Octavia, who had never been known for any displays of affection for anyone on the Ark. 

Years under a floorboard could do that to a person. 

“I…” Clarke wheezed, breathless. 

Lexa watched with knitted brows, clenching her fists. 

“Holy shit, you’re alive.” Finn breathed, regarding Clarke with a gaze that turned Raven’s head. 

“Hey, spacewalker.” Clarke whispered, glancing up at him through teary eyes.

“We all thought…” Bellamy trailed off. “I uh….it’s good to see you alive, Princess.” He tried to recover stiffly, but Lexa’s eyes honed in on him, boring into his soul. 

Clarke shook her head, flustered, as they all took a few steps back, giving her room to breathe. “You...you all…” 

“We made it.” Monty, innocent as ever, wore a smile. “Somehow.” 

Clarke’s gaze kept searching, Lexa noticed, and she wore a worried expression. 

“And...Wells?” Clarke asked softly. 

Suddenly, their gazes were torn away, and Clarke’s heart dropped. 

“He…” Raven began, but was cut off. 

“-Imprisoned.” Octavia cut in, somewhat dryly. “Along with his father.” 

Clarke’s eyes widened, and her legs began to tremble. “I…” She stammered. “I...what...wha-” 

“He wasn’t floated.” Finn offered, putting a consoling hand on Clarke’s shoulder. 

Lexa took a step closer, and Clarke noticed, tucking that away to address later. 

“Where is he?” She asked, swallowing the lump in her throat. 

“We don’t know. He and his dad disappeared after the crash. Your mom was talking about getting the prisoners back in shackles. They fled.” 

“Where?” Clarke demanded, suddenly eager to ride after them, and leave this mess behind.

“The forest?” Jasper shrugged. “It...all looks the same.” 

Lexa rolled her eyes. 

As pathetic and dependent as the mountain men. 

What good were bloodthirsty, incapable allies? 

Titus would recommend wiping them out. Other ambassadors would back him. 

Lexa felt a pang of guilt, knowing that some part of her would support the idea. 

As of now, they were more of a volatile threat than anything else, and threats needed to be put down. 

For the good of the already unstable coalition. 

“Well, tell us.” Jasper asked impatiently, scrambling to sit on the boulder he’d been leaning on. 

Despite everything that happened, Clarke wore a slightly amused look. 

“Tell you what?” 

“How’d you survive?” 

Clarke took a breath, glancing at Lexa behind her. “I was found. And taken in. By Commander Leksa Kom Trikru of the twelve clans.” Clarke announced slowly. “At the time, though...she wasn’t.” 

Eyes searched Lexa, who stood defiant of all scrutiny. 

“ _Delinquents_.” She bit down in greeting. 

They shuffled uncomfortably. 

“So you...you...were _taken_?” Bellamy clarified, and Lexa bristled. 

“No!” Clarke scowled. “Taken in! Taken care of. Not-not the way it seems.” 

“And how does it _seem_ , Clarke?” Lexa mumbled under her breath, eyes offended. 

Clarke mentally kicked herself. Poor choice of words. 

She raised Lexa’s hand, rolling her sleeve suddenly. 

To everyone’s surprise, Lexa was docile with the sudden move, willingly lending her arm to Clarke. She hiked up her own sleeve, placing their forearms together. Their, the combined tattoo became one, and the message was clear. 

“We’re married.” Clarke announced breathily, watching the surprise slowly wash over their faces. 

“Holy fucking shit.” Raven mumbled, taken aback. 

Octavia’s eyes lit up with something indescribable, but she kept her mouth shut. 

Lexa watched, pride seeping into her every feature. 

_Tell them, Clarke. Tell them that we rule, together._

“So you…” Monty trailed off. 

“She’s essentially a queen.” Finn finished, his tone unreadable. 

“Not _essentially_.” Lexa finally butted in. “She is Klark kom Trikru. Wanheda, wife of the commander, and a decorated warrior.” 

“Warrior?” Octavia breathed. 

Raven nodded slowly. “I saw the way you fought, Clarke.” 

It was as if they didn’t know what to make of the information. 

“You trained?” Octavia asked, prodding, suddenly. 

Clarke nodded. “Lexa is the most skilled in the twelve clans. She taught me.” 

Octavia seemed to regard Lexa in a new light. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted slightly, and because Clarke didn’t know better, she felt a deep pang of jealousy. 

Lexa was staring at Octavia, sizing her up, and Clarke didn’t realize that Lexa was envisioning her as a warrior. 

If the sky people could strengthen her army’s numbers, what with their weapons and devoted pupils like this Octavia character, _then,_ perhaps an alliance wasn’t such a convoluted concept. 

“Clarke.” Lexa had already noticed Marcus Kane approaching, and had silently scanned him with her eyes, contemplating whether or not he was a potential threat to her wife, all before he’d even managed to get within ten feet of them. 

Clarke, however, had been so engrossed in meeting these so called “delinquents” that she’d jumped a little at his touch. 

“The meeting, Clarke. Now or never.” 

“My parents are ready?” Clarke asked, brows shooting up. 

She thought she’d have more time, to get them to warm up a little more, at the very least. She could tell her former friends were regarding her with curious stares, unsure of whether or not it was _their_ Clarke they were facing. 

“Clarke, stay a little longer?” Finn asked, knitting his brows together when Lexa shook her head. 

Clarke turned to Lexa, gaze instantly softening. 

“Inadvisable. Azgeda moves quickly.” Lexa reminded softly, they way reserved solely for Clarke. 

Clarke nodded, sighing. With a turn to the others, she wore a melancholy smile. 

“May we meet again.” 

Their faces seemed to echo the sentiment. 

Lexa didn’t trust them. 

* * *

Lexa and Clarke rubbed shoulders as they walked into the Ark’s control room, now lined with busted panels, electrical guts spilling out in some areas, relatively contained. 

Clarke’s eyes widened, and sweat beaded her forehead. 

She had only the worst of memories of this very room, where it had all turned sour. 

Abby, on the other hand, seemed to fit well into the shadows, the room like a great futuristic cavern, bathed in only artificial light. 

Lexa looked extremely wary, well aware of Clarke’s heart, and it’s irregular beating. 

She rested a hand on Clarke’s hip, silently giving her the support she needed. 

“You’re here.” Abby sighed, turning to Clarke and Lexa. 

Kane followed them, looking particularly stressed. 

Tensions must have been running high around the rest of the camp. They needed resolution, action, and guidance, and Abby was hellbent on giving it to them. 

“Where’s dad?” Clarke asked, swallowing the lump in her throat. 

Abby looked guilty. “He couldn’t join us. He has other matters to attend to.” 

Clarke didn’t look convinced. 

“Just...spit it out, mom.” Clarke sighed, and Lexa shot Abby a lethal gaze, wishing she could set aside Clarke’s feelings and show the woman the true hierarchy of the ground. 

But then, she’d be a savage as Abby had proclaimed her to be. 

She kept her mouth shut, mind reeling with similar disheartening thoughts. 

And then Abby spoke. 

“We want a treaty, Clarke.” 

Lexa froze, sharing a stunned glance with Clarke. 

They expected a fight for this, at the very least. 

And then the guards moved behind the door, tightening their position, so that there was no space between them. 

“And we have just one condition, honey.” 

Lexa tensed like drawn bowstring. 

Clarke paled. She knew what was coming. 

“Clarke, we think it's best if you stay here, in Arkadia.” 

Lexa lunged. 


	4. Chapter Four

_“Clarke, we think it's best if you stay here, in Arkadia.”_

Lexa lunged for the guards, and before the one closest could reach her shock baton, Lexa already had a blade to her throat, a threatening growl on her features. 

Clarke’s heart hammered. 

She was furious, anger quaking in her body, but she knew too well that they were outnumbered, and Lexa’s safety was everything to her. 

“Tell her to stand down, now!” Abby demanded, and her body was rigid, tense like a coiled up snake, ready to strike. 

“ _Em pleni.”_ Lexa growled, her voice distinctly different from before. 

It made one, potent message clear: her patience had run out. 

“Don’t speak to her in that- that _ridiculous_ language-” The words of the guard closest to Abby were met with a death glare from both Clarke and Lexa. 

Clarke could do nothing but watch as Lexa’s jugular stuck out of her neck, her jaw tense as she snapped out her next few demands without so much as a breath in between. 

“Listen, and listen well.” Lexa growled, low and terrifying. She was seething and yet somehow eerily calm, the combination throwing seemingly everybody in the room. 

It was simply that: a raw display of power and control, one that Lexa intended on delivering specifically to Clarke’s mother, of all people. 

“Your _nameless_ people _fell_ on _my_ land.” Lexa snarled. 

So much for Clarke’s plan of trying to make Abby see the Grounders as civilized. 

“And I did you the service, the _favor_ , of not allowing them to be _slaughtered_ like the pathetic, _useless_ sheep they appear to be!” Lexa roared now, and Clarke watched in complete and utter horror. 

Abby opened her mouth to protest, but Lexa shut her up faster than Clarke could register. 

“Not only that, but I offered you _aid_ and _peace_ . And yet, you stand here, and continue to spit upon all I’ve offered. I even tolerated _that_ , to an extent, for Clarke’s sake.” Lexa’s eyes flitted to find Clarke’s cobalt gaze, and the fire between them seemed to burn brighter, for a moment. 

“But that ends now.” Lexa demanded, and Clarke’s heart shattered right in her chest, falling into her stomach in a thousand little, demolished shards. 

“Let it be known.” Lexa continued. “There is no chancellor. There is no _Ark_ . You are _nothing._ You are either part of the coalition, or in the way of it. And I will personally see to it that every obstacle in the way of peace is _destroyed_.” 

Lexa’s voice had turned eerily calm once more, and Clarke could only watch, gaping, as everyone in the room shook along with her, terrified. 

“Now.” Lexa shoved the guard back, watching as she stumbled back into the wall behind her. “Open the doors.” 

A guard looked somewhat hesitant, but Abby only nodded, looking thoroughly defeated. 

Slowly, the door began to open, and Lexa glanced at Clarke with an indecipherable gaze in her virid eyes. 

Indecipherable to many, but not to her own wife. 

Clarke glanced back at her boots with a sigh, taking in her own position, caught between Lexa and Abby, both figuratively and physically. 

Lexa’s eyes held a single question in place. 

_Me, or them?_

Clarke didn’t have to think about it. 

Maybe that was what haunted her most, about the moment. 

It happened so naturally, so effortlessly, as she only bowed her head in absolute shame for her so-called “people”, (though humanity clearly wasn’t their best quality), she reached out for Lexa’s hand, sliding her fingers into Lexa’s grasp. 

Lexa’s soft and reassuring squeeze was the only source of light in her existence, as they were escorted off the premises. 

Their steps were followed by the eyes of Clarke’s so-called “friends”, watching their saviour walk off hand in hand with their new worst enemy. 

* * *

_Leksa wasn’t in the natblidas chambers, when Klark came looking for her, one summer’s night._

_The young girl had almost been perfectly subtle about her escape, even making it past Onya, who’d been conversing with a guard outside of the tower._

_Klark had been able to guess where she’d wound up, though, after what she’d witnessed earlier._

_It wasn’t so much a failure as it was unfortunate timing, but Leksa had been distracted at the wrong time during training today._

_And it was Klark’s fault._

_While Leksa had returned to her life of intensive training and natblida tradition, Klark had been working odd jobs around Polis, for fear of appearing useless to the working society if she didn’t._

_Slowly but surely, she was assimilating to the Grounder culture, or at least, that of Trikru. Klark still knew little of the other clans, but one thing was certain: Trikru seemed to be the kindest, and their ideals of kindness were nothing like Klark was raised to believe._

_Every day, memories of the Ark would intrude upon Klark’s thoughts, contesting her ability to perform the tasks she needed to do, to prove herself._

_She missed her mother. Her father. Her friends._

_She wasn’t sure if she missed the Ark’s meals- sometimes dehydrated packets of food that only tasted a little better upon preparation. But she did miss not having to stalk, hunt, and murder a living creature to feed upon._

_She missed not going to bed- (hell, her cot, lined with furs of dead animals was hardly a bed)- achy and sore._

_She missed belonging._

_It wasn’t something she knew she needed until it was something she no longer possessed._

_She was an outsider, and despite however many moons had passed since her crash landing on Earth, she would always be an outsider._

_They treated her differently, the Grounders._

_They made comments, comparing her to the wretched “Maunon” and mockingly called her “Skaiprisa”. Klark was still no expert in Trigedasleng, but she understood being compared to the Mountain Men or being called “Sky princess” was another form of mockery._

_And then there was Leksa kom Trikru._

_Klark didn’t know why she felt like the air she was breathing would leave her lungs in a flurry every time she saw the girl._

_After all, she was only that. A girl._

_And so, it was quite the mystery as to why Klark couldn’t breathe properly around her. And as far as Leksa’s feelings for her?_

_Unknown, just like most other facts about the girl._

_Klark wasn’t too sure, but she had an inkling that Costia was somehow involved in her life._

_Just the thought made an uncomfortable boiling sort of feeling in the pit of Klark’s stomach._

_Why?_

_She didn’t want to press the issue, didn’t want to investigate it any further, for fear of whatever else she might feel._

_She wasn’t sure exactly what had attracted her to Leksa._

_That was a lie._

_It was something within her. Her eyes, the way they glimmered with unasked questions, compelling Klark to tell her far too much. She didn’t express much of anything, but when she did smile, it was brilliant. And she was kind, even if she wasn’t quick to display it in front of others._

_Klark didn’t blame her._

_No one wanted to look at her, let alone be kind to her._

_Sometimes, it tortured Klark. To have no one at all, no one to confide in, to love, to tell anything to at all._

_Other times, she remembered that she did have people._

_They were there, up in the stars, waiting to see her again, and she knew, in her heart of hearts, that they’d be down some day, too._

_And then, Klark would have her people again._

_This was only temporary._

_That was her mantra, as she searched for Leksa where she knew she would find her, at the edge of the lake, past the thicket of trees to the east._

_This was only temporary._

* * *

Lexa rode at the vanguard of the troop of Grounders who’d fought alongside her, quiet and endlessly stern on the winding road. 

Occasionally, a ray of light would shine down through the canopy of trees, landing on her face, illuminating it to Clarke’s view, reminding her of Lexa’s anger-filled outburst back at the landing site. 

_Lexa snapped._

She finally snapped. 

Clarke didn’t think she’d react the way she did, but she’d foolishly forgotten how protective was of their relationship. 

It had been bad enough for Lexa to suffer through the implications that she was the ruler of _savages_ , and that she’d manipulated Clarke or exploited her for sex, or anything of the sort. But now? Now that they suggested _reclaiming Clarke_? 

_Her Klark_? 

Her _wife_ and closest confidant? 

The suggestion alone was enough to provoke war in the culture of the clans, and Lexa would’ve been justified to and even encouraged by her people if she smote them where they so gracelessly landed. 

Clarke’s mind spun at the thought. 

She knew Lexa during peace and wartime, but this was something new entirely. 

She wasn’t even sure how to confront the Commander, let alone look her in the eyes, in front of her people, now. 

_Was_ she even supposed to confront her? 

She made a choice, that much was clear. 

She didn’t hesitate in choosing Lexa. 

But nonetheless, the worry in her chest nagged at her, like a disease, growing with every passing moment. 

She’d looked _her_ people- (were they still her people? Could they still be called that after the way they rejected her new life?)- in the eyes as she’d left. 

Whatever thoughts plagued Clarke’s mind, she found one thing remained certain: A line was clearly drawn. 

Now, whether Clarke had chosen the right side? 

That was what she pondered on the stoic ride home. 

* * *

_As Klark neared the edge of the lake, her suspicions were confirmed by the subtle existent boot-prints in the earth before her._

_Leksa was indeed taking refuge in her usual spot, bathing in the moonlit glow, contemplating her decisions with a broody face, as she always did._

_Klark’s heart ached for the girl, carrying the burden that she did._

_The natblidas ways were...barbaric._

_Klark never admitted it aloud, for fear of being cast out by the rest of Trikru- for she was already overstaying her welcome, if it could even be called that._

_But to force children, teenagers, into a fight to the death? To determine worthiness of bearing some…”spirit of the commanders past?”_

_Barbaric was almost too kind a word._

_Klark could close her eyes and imagine, very vividly, the signs of stress on Leksa. The tired lines under her eyes. The sighs she’d make, after a long day of training, gritting her teeth because her muscles would cry out in pain as she slipped into the bath._

_Klark didn’t know why she felt somehow...responsible. Not responsible for their awful traditions, no, but responsible for sharing that burden. She wanted to lift the aching weight off Leksa’s shoulders. She wanted to see a smile on Leksa’s face, the kind of smiles the other children of Polis wore, running around, snatching sweets from the market stalls, chasing each other through the streets._

_She wanted to see Leksa get some well deserved rest. To kiss her forehead and tell her, “You’re alright.”_

_The thoughts themselves plagued Klark’s mind._

_She wasn’t sure what the feelings were, coursing through her, but all she did know was that, the minute she broke through the clearing, she found one person she was not expecting to see._

_There, pressed beside Leksa, a comforting hand on her thigh, rubbing soft circles, was none other than Costia._

_Klark felt her heart drop into her gut._

_It only made matters worse, when Costia leaned forward, and Leksa caressed her cheek, the two gazing into one another’s eyes with affection that Klark yearned for._

_Of course._

_Of fucking course._

_Klark was an idiot. She was a damned fool to think that, even for a moment, Leksa would be interested in hearing about her day, or what she caught, or how she finally learned the proper disarming technique with a spear._

_Leksa wasn’t interested in any of her pitiful attempts at life on the ground._

_Klark was an outsider. A splita. Spat upon by most, tolerated by few._

_And Leksa? Well, she was destined to be the Commander of the twelve clans._

_Leksa had her people, and she had her person, Costia._

_It was with an intense self-hatred that Klark suddenly turned, sharp on her heel, creating a rustle in the brush behind her as she stalked back to her pathetic tent. She wasn’t allowed a room in the tower like the natblidas. No, she was so graciously afforded a tent on the outskirts, along with all the other societal outcasts._

_A tent she had to construct herself, painstakingly._

_A tent that leaked when it rained and fell apart when it stormed._

_A tent that Leksa had snuck by, reinforcing the hide and the center pole, when Klark was out in the city._

_There was much Klark didn’t know, at the time._

_She didn’t know that Leksa had called after her, when she’d left._

_She didn’t know that Leksa would eventually be her wife._

_All she could do was recite her own mantra to herself, again and again. “This is only temporary. This is only temporary. You’re not alone, Klark. You have people, too. Your people. You’re not alone.”_

* * *

Clarke understood that Lexa needed time. 

She understood the immensity of the situation, and she knew all too well the burden that Lexa carried, being responsible for so many lives. 

She understood that it was time of war, not just pending with the Ark, but within the clans themselves. Azgeda had made themselves known as a threat, and Clarke had Lexa so distracted with her own people that she’d forced Lexa to neglect the others. 

Clarke understood. 

Which is why she opted not to utter a single word to her wife, through the ride home, all the way into the city, and eventually the tower. Lexa never came up, even though nightfall had rapidly approached. 

Her handmaidens drew her a bath, a bath Clarke hoped to share with Lexa. 

It was an empty hope to possess. 

Usually, there would be candles, steam rising from the center of the bath. Clarke would be hesitant, dipping a toe in at most, until she’d hear a soft, feminine chuckle, and then, “ _It’s not bad, Ai niron.”_

And then Lexa would extend her hand out, clasping Clarke’s hands and drag her in, kissing her until she was breathless, until she forgot why she’d hesitated in the first place. 

But now? 

No such luck. 

No, Clarke had bathed alone, save for the ball of anxiety, terror, and _dread_ that filled her chest. 

She’d scrubbed off every layer of dirt, and grime. She’d sat until the water grew cold and her thoughts hardened, became less malleable along with it. 

She grew angry. 

At first, upon their arrival into Polis, she’d been flexible. She’d tried to talk herself down from the edge, because she was under the impression that she’d be able to talk it all out with Lexa, to make some sense of it all. 

She waited, and waited, but Lexa’s so called _diplomacy_ was nowhere to be found. 

And now, Clarke was furious. 

Lexa had promised. She’d promised to try to make things work with her people. Stubborn as they were, they were simply terrified, and as much as Clarke tried to convey that to Lexa, it simply didn’t register with the Commander. 

And sometimes, Clarke hated that about her. 

Yes, her people insulted the Grounders, and their culture. 

Yes, they showed insolence, rather than respect. 

Yes, Lexa would be justified in leaving them, Clarke knew. 

But she _hated_ the way Lexa would suddenly make decisions without her. 

They hadn’t _agreed_ upon her outburst. Lexa, who had always preached, “ _I’ll never make you choose, Klark”_ had done exactly that. 

She fucking put her on the spot. In front of everyone she ever knew. 

And worse yet, Clarke lamented, she chose her wife. 

It wasn’t as if there was a choice to make, really. But the fact that Lexa could suddenly assume her pretentious Commander role, and treat her own wife like just another one of her subjects, disturbed Clarke to no end. 

And truth be told? 

She was finished with all this avoidance shit. Usually, she wouldn’t dare disturb Lexa when she was doing “official business” (a guard informed her as much when she’d asked if the Commander had been seen since they’d arrived). But this? 

This was inexcusable. 

She didn’t care if it was a crime punishable by law. 

She was going to march right into that war room, with Lexa and all her uptight, pigheaded generals, and she was going to have this conversation, one way or another. 

Clarke donned her clothes- (making a scene in front of the generals in her night dress was a poor idea)- and set out of the Commander’s quarters, nearly knocking over one of the guards in her haste. 

By the time she’d bustled down the _fucking ridiculous_ flights of stairs to get to the level of the war room, she was almost winded. 

But what she found piqued her curiosity even more. 

There were no guards outside of the great wooden doors of the war room, firmly shut. 

No guards meant no ambassadors- it was Heda’s order that any meeting have a series of guards to maintain the order, as well as protect the sensitive information. 

Clarke’s brow knitted in anger. 

Lexa _wasn’t_ just going over the war plans herself. She couldn’t be _that_ much of an asshole, could she? She knew damn well Clarke would want to confront her after what happened. 

Sucking in a breath, Clarke barreled forward, the doors launching open with a definitive slam. 

There, Clarke’s anger _grew_. 

She didn’t think it possible, but then again, she hadn’t imagined Costia to be on the other side of the doors, poring over a map of Azgeda territory with Lexa leaning over her shoulder, deep in thought. 

Until, of course, the slammed door scared the living shit out of them, and had Lexa shooting Clarke something of a death glare. 

“What are you _doing_?!” Lexa demanded in a hiss. “Half the tower is asleep.” 

Clarke eyed Costia furiously, and Costia looked terrified. 

“I...I should go.” She offered in a stutter, grabbing at the rolls of parchment that she’d apparently brought. 

Lexa looked furious. “No, we just-” 

“With all due respect.” She bowed her head, backing out, curls bouncing slightly as she did. “It is _very_ late, Heda. I can return at sunrise.” 

Lexa sighed, and then nodded slowly. “ _Mochof_.” 

Like a frightened mouse, Costia scurried away, without a single glance backwards, and Clarke felt a little guilt bubble in the pit of her stomach. 

_Not now, idiot. Stay strong. Stay fierce._

Clarke’s gaze burned into Lexa’s, and Lexa stood up, eye-to-eye with her wife. 

Clarke noticed Lexa’s faint scent of lavender, and growled a little. So she’d found time to clean up, too? 

“Some war meeting, Commander.” Clarke scoffed. “I see the ambassadors made quite an effort to be here.” 

Lexa let out a sort of warning growl, telling Clarke that she was overstepping, just a bit. 

Clarke snorted at the sound. She wasn’t afraid of her own wife, Commander or not. 

“It’s time I got back to my people. People who _want_ to survive.” Lexa snapped, and Clarke’s blood ran cold. 

Ah, the great divide. 

Who did she belong to? 

The thought made her uneasy. 

_No one, Clarke. You belong to no one._

“Is...is that what you were doing, then?” Clarke spat. “Looking over maps with Costia? I’m to believe that?” 

Lexa rolled her eyes. “She’s only been to Azgeda every single winter season since she was born. She’s a _logical choice_ to assist me in mapping out their routes. Last I checked, Heda doesn’t need _permission_ to move on to another task.” 

Clarke stepped forward, into Lexa’s space. “And is bathing together a _logical choice,_ heda?” 

Lexa’s brows furrowed, and rage crossed her expression. “Are you _accusing me-_ ”

“Where did you bathe, heda?” Clarke taunted, trying to mask the fact that her heart was absolutely breaking. “Because I’ll tell you where I was! In our quarters, Lexa. Waiting for you!” She snarled, and the true hurt in her tone was revealed. “And imagine my surprise, when I find out...you’re doing god knows what, with _her_ , in the war room. And not only that, but you bark at me like I’m one of your….subjects.” 

She jabbed a finger at Lexa’s chest fiercely, and when her voice cracked, Lexa’s anger was wiped away. 

She allowed Clarke to put her hands on her chest, as if to shove her fiercely, but Clarke trembled against her instead, and Lexa’s mouth opened in surprise. 

“Klark. Breathe.” Lexa soothed, suddenly only Leksa and not at all Heda. 

Clarke trembled and Lexa cupped her cheeks, forcing Clarke’s eyes, blurry with tears, to look into hers. 

“I have _nobody_.” Clarke whispered. 

Lexa’s heart broke, then, into lethal shards that pierced her insides like shrapnel. 

If Clarke truly thought that, then she’d failed. 

She’d failed greatly. 

She couldn’t do the one thing a spouse was supposed to provide: unconditional support. She couldn’t prioritize her own wife over her duties. 

She didn’t deserve Clarke, and Clarke didn’t deserve the pain. 

“Don’t say that.” Lexa admonished, but it was saccharine and whispered in such a tender way that Clarke wanted to believe it. 

“I’m...I’m sorry I couldn’t be better, for you.” Clarke sobbed quietly, her spirit broken. 

Lexa shook her head. “Enough, Clarke. It...I...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, today. I shouldn’t have threatened them.” 

Clarke didn’t respond, and Lexa’s fears grew. 

“You have to understand, Clarke. It...wasn’t about their insolence. It wasn’t about any of that.” 

“Then why?” Clarke hissed. 

“They...I lost control, Clarke, when they mentioned... _you_.” Lexa admitted, looking absolutely distraught. 

And then it all snapped into place. 

It was the idea of losing Clarke, that set Lexa off so wildly. 

It was the suggestion that their love wasn’t real. 

It was the thought of the sky people, taking her Clarke away, feeding her lies, brainwashing her to think otherwise. 

Clarke paused, for a moment, the two simply staring at each other fiercely, breathing labored. 

“I’m…” Lexa paused, trying to find the strength, the guidance, to continue. “I’m so sorry, Clarke. You...deserve far more than I could ever give to you.” Lexa admitted. “I was selfish. The thought of losing you, of you realizing that you were...home, with them...I could feel _fear_ coursing through my veins.” Lexa admitted breathlessly. “I acted foolishly.”

Clarke’s shaking hands slid up from Lexa’s chest, resting on her cheeks, cupping them as well. 

Lexa’s lips trembled, and Clarke leaned forward, stilling them with her own in the sweetest sort of kiss. 

Lexa sighed, breathless against her lips, and Clarke took a moment to savor the feeling, the taste. 

“I…” Lexa barely moved her lips, and Clarke leaned back ever so slightly, allowing her to talk. “I admit, _niron,_ I was avoiding you. Trying to distance myself, because I did not have the heart to tell you that I...I failed you, today.” She whispered, and Clarke shook her head in soft protest. 

“Lexa, no-” 

“You said you feel as if you belong to no one.” Lexa whispered, empty, pained, hollow in her words. “If that is true, Clarke, then I have failed even more than I previously believed. All of this, I did-” 

“I know.” Clarke cut her off. “I realize, now, that I...I was being foolish, too. I...I don’t feel that way, now.” 

Lexa sighed, rubbing Clarke’s cheek with her thumb. “Perhaps the elder ambassadors are right, Klark.” 

“What do you mean?” Clarke asked, tilting her head slightly. 

Lexa wore the faintest of smiles. “We are truly idiots ensnared in love.” 

Clarke chuckled, and the sound made Lexa lean closer, to nuzzle, to feel her warmth. 

“You shouldn’t have avoided me.” Clarke mumbled. 

“I know. I apologize, niron.” Lexa whispered shamefully. 

“We could have talked, and avoided this mess.” Clarke sounded content with the outcome, however. “And that act you pull, as Heda? Unquestionable commands and barking at people?” Clarke continued. 

Lexa’s cheeks turned red. 

“Don’t you ever try that with me again, Lexa.” Clarke whispered in her ear, though contrasting her words, Clarke’s hands found her hips, bringing her closer. “I’m your _wife. Ai laik yun houmon, Leksa_.” 

Lexa nodded frantically in agreement, as if the whole act had disturbed her more than it had succeeded in keeping Clarke away. 

In a swift motion, she falling on her knees, glancing up at Clarke with the most reverent gaze she could muster. 

Clarke gasped a little, as Lexa reached forward, kissing her hands gently. 

“ _Moba,_ Clarke. I am sorry. You come before everything. Before anyone. I swear, I’ll never let you forget it, _Ai prisa.”_

Clarke was suddenly blushing, beet red, as she pulled Lexa to her feet, wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug. 

She had her best friend back. 

* * *

“So.” Clarke drawled, once they were safely tucked away back in Lexa’s quarters, the doors firmly shut behind them. “Where _did_ you bathe?” 

Lexa wore a look of amusement. “ _Onya’s_ quarters.” 

Clarke rolled her eyes. Leave it to Anya to save Lexa’s ass, even now. 

Clarke sat on the edge of the bed, fingers gripping somewhat nervously at the fur. 

Lexa finished undoing her final braid, running her hands through her hair to tousle the beautiful waves. 

Clarke wanted nothing more than to kiss Lexa, to run her fingers through her hair, to hold her. She _missed_ her, dramatic as it seemed. 

And her new revelation was...love-inspiring, to say the least. 

Lexa threatened war over Clarke. She threatened to start a war with a foreign nation, with _guns_ , if it meant she could keep Clarke. 

Clarke tried not to let her amazement show too much. She was still trying to process it all in her mind. Here she was, thinking that she had nothing and no one, when her wife had gone so far as to break diplomatic protocol at the mere suggestion of losing her. 

Perhaps, Clarke lamented, her younger self could stand to open her eyes a little more. 

It sure would’ve saved time. 

“Clarke?” Lexa asked, her voice soft with affection as she came to sit beside her. 

Clarke noticed Lexa’s hand hesitantly hovering by hers, and she smiled to herself. Lexa was trying not to make any assumptions since they’d had a tumultuous day. 

Clarke leaned her head on Lexa’s shoulder, snuggling her body into her wife’s, and nearly wanted to laugh out in joy when she heard Lexa’s satisfied hum. 

They craved each other’s embrace like they craved air to breathe, and it felt good to be on the same terms again. 

“May I ask you something...personal?” Lexa inquired. 

Clarke let out a breath and glanced up at Lexa, eyes shining with amusement. 

“Anything, Lex. “ 

Lexa beamed at the nickname. 

“You know that.” 

Lexa nodded, licking her lips. “I...do not know how to approach this. But...I…” She waited a moment, Clarke listening patiently. “Did you really think that I might be...romantically involved with Costia?” 

Clarke snorted a laugh. “Yes. Lexa, she’s in love with you.” 

Lexa glanced down, shaking her head. “She is _not_ , Clarke.” 

“She is. It’s obvious. She looks at you like you put the stars in the sky.” Clarke whispered, though there wasn’t a hint of sullenness to her tone. 

Lexa took a moment. “But...Did you think that _I_ could truly...do that to you?” 

Clarke sighed. “Lexa, I was angry. And Costia has a record of being in places, with you, that I-” She trailed off, and then licked her lips. “I was in love with you for as long as I can remember.” 

Lexa’s gaze softened. 

Clarke played with Lexa’s fingers, lacing them with her own. 

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to ever...love me. I was a _splita,_ remember?” Clarke murmured. 

“Not to me.” Lexa protested fiercely. 

“Lexa. I knew you were going to be the Commander. I...I saw it in your eyes. I knew you could never be with someone _hated_ by your people- and she was-” 

“I have never once _thought_ about loving her in the way that I love you.” Lexa uttered, and Clarke sighed at her romantics, pulling her closer for a kiss. 

The two fell back on the bed with a soft thud, closer in each other’s arms than before. 

A moment of peaceful silence washed over them, and Clarke kissed the Commander’s jawline to pass the time. 

“Lexa?” 

“ _Niron_.” 

“What happens now?” 

“We wait, Clarke. Your people’s intentions will be known with time.” 

“And if they’re not the intentions you were hoping for?” 

Lexa didn’t respond immediately. 

“Let us hope they understand the grave danger they will be in.” 

* * *

“Again!” Lexa roared, the sun casting a larger-than-life shadow across the sparring ring, where a handful of overconfident competitors came to challenge the Commander. 

Dull blades were used, and no actual challenges of power were issued, but it was a spectacle nonetheless, watching Trikru’s best get beaten to a pulp by Lexa’s prowess. 

It had been seven days since the return home, to Polis, and Clarke and Lexa’s relationship had mended steadily, if not instantly. 

Lexa had taken Clarke’s words about belonging to heart. She’d taken steps to make sure Clarke was even more included in whatever obligations Lexa had, including meetings, which weren’t fun at all- to sparring sessions- which were highlights for Clarke. 

She was allowed to stand at the edge of the ring, ahead of all the other spectators, the rabble that poured in from the market stalls upon hearing that there was an opportunity to watch the Commander train. 

Especially with the coming war, it seemed that most citizens of Polis grew a little more assured at the fact that Lexa was still a lethal warrior. 

After every fight, Lexa would drag herself to where Clarke was leaning against the divider, and the two would kiss. It was Clarke’s (self-assigned) duty to keep the Commander motivated, and while the crowd was roaring at their displays of affection, they didn’t hear the _other_ things Clarke would whisper into her wife’s ear while she was near. 

Clarke had become something of a legend in Polis, after her marriage with Lexa, which, at first, was an inconvenience. So she was a worthless outsider until she was Heda’s wife? 

Absolutely not. 

Clarke learned that she had been the subject of ridicule for quite some time, after that. The foreign-born queen of the Commander surely wasn’t a title she wanted to tout. 

But then came the first threats from the Reapers, when they’d amassed by a hunting party that she and Lexa had taken out, in preparation for a feast. There were children with them, just learning to hunt. 

Clarke had ridden into battle at Lexa’s side, that day, donning her blue cape and armor, a mirror of Lexa’s red. She fought with Lexa, at the vanguard, valiant and calculated. She’d saved a young girl from sure death, throwing herself in between the cowering child and the man intending to rip her throat out, foaming at the mouth. 

She’d slaughtered the Reapers without a second thought. 

After that, she was respected. 

She was accepted, as the secondary ruler of the clans. 

She’d earned her place. 

In fact, she was often encouraged to get into the ring and spar with Lexa herself, but she preferred to do so in private. 

Firstly, because it looked better when the two were a constant united front, but also...because she got a little _too_ worked up when Lexa’s rippling muscles would come into view. 

So spectating it was. 

By the end of the afternoon, the crowd had dissipated, and Lexa had informed Titus that she’d be taking no further obligations for the evening. 

Having hosted war meetings in the morning, and training sessions with troops, he had no argument. 

It was with a sense of urgency that Clarke and Lexa almost stumbled back to their quarters, hand in hand, as if their world wasn’t on the brink of war. 

As if they weren’t on two rapidly fracturing sides of the equation. 

Lexa had pressed Clarke against the wall as soon as they entered, already latching onto her exposed neck, leaving suckling kisses there as Clarke laughed in surprise. 

“Ahem. Heda.” One of the handmaidens emerged from the side, and Clarke and Lexa nearly jumped. 

Lexa groaned inwardly, turning to eye the girl. 

“Your bath is ready, heda.” She dipped her head and scurried out before Lexa could do much else but nod. 

Once the door had clicked securely behind her, Lexa turned back to face Clarke. 

“You had a bath prepared?” Clarke whined at the thought of having some time to themselves, after all that they’d been barraged with. 

Lexa nodded, licking her lips. 

Clarke frowned. “But...what about the preparation meeting with the archers from Delfikru-” 

“ _Ai niron_ ,” Lexa mouthed against her neck. “It’s been taken care of.” 

“And the meeting with _Trishanakru_ for-” 

“Klark.” 

“And don’t forget, _Floukru_ -” 

“Klark.” Lexa rolled her name the way she liked, and Clarke melted into her body. 

“Yes?” 

“Shof op.” Lexa smiled, kissing her jaw, and then her mouth, little teasing pecks to make Clarke smile, too.

“You’re usually so stoic.” Clarke cocked a brow. 

“Heda is. I, however, am trying to court my wife into a bath that I worked very hard to rearrange into my plans, so that I may lavish upon her.” 

Clarke smiled amusedly, shaking her head in awe. “That’s why you spent so much time arguing with Titus?” 

Lexa sighed, and nodded. “He does not seem to think our love takes precedence over wartime planning.” 

“It doesn’t.” Clarke agreed half-heartedly. 

“Klark.” Lexa whispered. “I...felt something inexplicable, when you told me that you felt alone. I...I cannot explain it, but I never want you to feel that way again. I wish for you to see yourself as Klark kom Trikru, but more than that, I wish for you to see yourself as _Ai houmon_ . Not only when it is convenient, but always. I might be Heda, but I am Leksa first. And these people may be mine to ward, but you are mine _first_.” 

Clarke shook her head. She shook her head in absolute disbelief as her vision went blurry with unshed tears, and she grabbed at Lexa’s collar, bunching it up. 

“You...you can’t…” Clarke shook her head still, touched by the action. 

“I can.” Lexa whispered. “Now, come. The water will get cold.” 

Clarke took in a ragged breath. Lexa was still trying to appeal to her, to tell her she belonged, that she was her first priority.

True or not, the actions touched Clarke in ways she couldn’t verbalize, and suddenly she was being stripped, sensual touches feeling white hot on her skin. 

She felt inebriated by love, and only the feel of the piping hot water on her skin bring her back to reality. War was coming, and there were so few moment left to just _be_ like this. 

When she came to, truly, she was in Lexa’s arms, the two engulfed by the bath water, steaming, infused with oils and extracts that Clarke never bothered to learn the names of. 

“Ai hod yu in.” Lexa whispered, lips grazing her ear, arms fastening her in place. 

“I can’t live without you.” Clarke whispered, and with the decidedness, the air of finality that rang in her voice, no statement could’ve been clearer.

She wasn’t sure where her path with her sky people would lead her, but she knew that her place, at Lexa’s side, in Lexa’s arms, was secure. She had her home. Now, if her people could decide to peacefully join her? 

“You don’t have to.” Lexa promised, voice quiet, steady and calm like her heart beating in her chest, a metronome, unrattled by the threats outside. 

* * *

“Fuck, Lexa, please... _jok_ …” Clarke whimpered as she thrashed about across the furs, her clean body being desecrated and worshiped all at once by Lexa. 

Lexa had her right out of the bath, the two kissing with an uncontained passion, stumbling about, forgetting the towels, forgetting everything but each other’s bodies. 

Lexa was currently nestled between her wife’s thighs (arguably her favorite position in existence), lapping away at Clarke’s slick folds, tasting her desire. 

“ _Jok, niron,_ you taste so _good_.” Lexa hummed, something low and primal, and the wet sounds of her tongue against Clarke’s slick heat only heightened her arousal. 

“God.” Clarke hissed as she grabbed at Lexa’s locks, the ones she’d been dying to play with, instead pulling Lexa even closer against her. “I love you so-” 

Lexa smirked, sucking a bruising kiss into the inside of Clarke’s upper thigh, enjoying the obvious mark she was leaving. 

“Mouth. On me. Now.” Clarke demanded needily, and Lexa chuckled, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through Clarke. 

“I can _feel_ your release building.” Lexa mumbled, and Clarke wasn’t sure if she was just hearing her inner musings, or if Lexa was talking dirty. 

Either way, it _worked_. 

A fresh gush of wetness slipped down Clarke’s thighs, soaking the furs that Lexa would have replaced, shortly after. 

There were _some_ perks to being Commander. 

“So tight. So wet. _Ai hod yun gapa in, Klark_ . _Meizen.”_ Lexa groaned against her, and Clarke was spasming under her suddenly at the dirty talk. 

Ripples of pleasure shook Clarke as she felt Lexa’s deliciously long fingers rock into her core, curling against her front wall. 

“That’s it, _niron_. Release, for me. I want to feel you-” 

Am abrupt knock on the door had Lexa cursing in frustration, fingers still pumping into Clarke. She groaned as she was forced to peel her gaze away from Clarke’s clenching thighs, her bouncing breasts, and onto whatever the hell was at hand. 

“What?!” She demanded fiercely, and Clarke would’ve chuckled, if she wasn’t too busy riding the high of her orgasm on her wife’s fingers.

“It’s urgent.” The familiar voice on the other side responded. 

Lexa cursed again and got up, slipping into the robe she’d thrown on the floor. She moved to drape the furs over Clarke, but not before leaning down for a last kiss, as Clarke thanked her for her _work_. 

She wore a proud little smirk. “I love you.” She whispered in gonasleng. Clarke grinned and lazily kissed her again. “I love you too, _ai houmon._ ” 

Lexa’s heart fluttered at the sound of Clarke calling her such an intimate name, in trigedasleng no less. 

She wore a smile of adoration before leaning back and then sighing as she went to the door. 

She swung it open with little regard or care for whoever stood on the other side. 

Luckily it was Anya, who knew Lexa better than most, and easily sidestepped the swinging door. 

“Heda.” She bowed her head respectfully. 

Lexa just glared at her. 

Anya’s smirk broadened. 

The rumple of the furs behind Lexa made her turn, where she witnessed Clarke sigh blissfully, falling asleep with a smile on her face. 

When she turned back to Anya, she wore a smirk with the same blinding capabilities of the sun. 

“Wanheda.” Anya greeted, and Lexa’s cheeks burned. 

Clarke was already half-asleep, too busy to hear. 

“Am I interrupting something, Heda?” Anya was never one for jokes, but when they were at Lexa’s expense? 

She was full of them. 

“Shof op, _Onya_.” Lexa growled. 

“The tower stopped shaking, I imagined it was the safest time to knock.” 

“Spit it out!” Lexa snapped. 

Anya chuckled, but then her expression sobered slightly. 

“ _Onya?”_ Lexa demanded. 

“Nothing grave, Heda.” She prefaced, and then blinked. “My patrol was handed this letter, by a rider from the sky people.” She handed over the sealed parchment. “It is for Wanheda’s eyes only, I’m told.” 

Lexa glanced back at Clarke, and then worried her lip, expression stony. 

“Tread lightly, Heda.” Anya murmured. “These are uncertain times.” 

Lexa nodded slowly, glancing up at her eyes. “ _Mochof.”_ She whispered. 

Anya nodded, and then turned on her heel. 

Lexa sighed, thumbing the paper in her hands before turning to Clarke, still fast asleep on the bed. 

Feelings of dread pooled in the pit of her stomach. 

She had to protect her wife. 


	5. Chapter Five

As soon as Anya left Lexa’s quarters, the thick door shutting behind her, Lexa noticed Clarke beginning to stir. 

“Leksa.” She mumbled into the furs, soft and vulnerable. 

She glanced at the letter in her hands, and swallowed the lump in her throat. 

Not yet. 

She would tell Clarke soon, but for now...Just a moment of peace with her wife. 

She was too weary to deal with the in’s and out’s of war. She wanted to be young, like she was, and simply  _ be _ . 

She only wanted to worry for Clarke, and herself. 

To just enjoy the gifts of life, after all that happened. 

No treachery, no treason, no battle, no mortality to fret over, from sunrise to sunset. 

Of course, that was not the life afforded to Lexa, being the single most burdened being on all that was left of Earth. 

But in the mornings, when the sun’s rays dipped through the tower windows, when the breeze caressed her bare skin, when she’d wake to golden tendrils of hair splayed out across her chest…

Those were the mornings she could pretend. 

She could lose herself in Clarke’s soft hums of pleasure, in the way she’d bury herself in Lexa’s body and not an inch of space was between them. 

She’d pretend they were alone, not threatened, not hunted, just blissfully idle.

Setting the letter down by the foot of the bed, Lexa returned, lifting the furs and slowly sliding underneath. 

Immediately, arms sought her out and it was all Lexa could do not to grin as they wrapped around her, pulling her straight to the source. 

Clarke’s head barely lifted as she burrowed it into Lexa’s neck, and her legs slid between muscular thighs. 

Before Lexa knew it, she was coiled around her, still somewhat asleep, but smiling nonetheless, eyes closed. 

Truthfully, Lexa almost couldn’t breathe, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

She adored the moments where she could simply be Leksa, with her most trusted confidant and the love of her life. 

“Don’t go.” Clarke mumbled into her skin. 

“I’m not.” Lexa soothed, amusement evident in her tone. 

“You did.” 

“Someone was at the door.” She explained. 

“Titus?” Clarke groaned. 

Lexa shook her head, and Clarke felt it. 

“Costia?” 

Lexa snorted her response, and she felt Clarke grin into the dip of her shoulder. 

Lexa felt the swell of Clarke’s breasts shifting against her as she moved, and tried to ignore the stab of arousal. 

“Leksa.” Clarke’s fingers skimmed Lexa’s stomach, teasingly dipping lower. “Who was it?” 

“Anya.” Lexa replied softly. 

“Oh. What did she want?” Clarke asked, now more awake, leaning back to glance at Lexa with bright blue eyes and fluttering lashes. 

Lexa took a moment, her jaw locking. 

Clarke could sense her uneasiness, and sat up a little, bringing her hand up to caress Lexa’s jaw, in efforts to relax the tension. 

“Baby.” Clarke knew how the term affected Lexa, once she’d understood its meaning. Clarke called no one and nothing else by that term, and it made Lexa glow inside with affection. “Take a moment, take a breath. And then tell me the truth.” 

Lexa nodded, trying desperately not to show any emotion. 

It was the Commander’s job to remain neutral, never upset, never at risk of jeopardizing her decision making process. 

But it was hitting Lexa all at once, and she couldn’t process the information. 

She was realizing how much she didn’t want any of this. 

Not the power, not the destiny, none of it. 

She longed to be alone, a simple woman, with Clarke at her side, safe and away from the horrors and cruelty of what was left of the human race. 

She felt tears sting at her eyes, and she slowly realized that she’d never asked for any of it. She’d just accepted it. She’d accepted the burden, and thrived under it. 

But now? 

Everyone expected something of her, and the one person who didn’t was likely to be ripped away from her arms at a moment’s notice. 

“Leksa.” Clarke whispered, voice tinged with fear. “ _ Ai houmon _ , whatever it is...It’s okay.” She soothed, as the tears began to fall. She kissed them away, ever gentle. 

“It’s a letter.” Lexa whispered, honoring her vow to always be honest with Clarke. The last thing she wanted to do was endanger her relationship with Clarke herself. Too many people were already trying to do so. 

“...From my people.” Clarke finished thoughtfully. 

Lexa nodded slowly, dipping her head shamefully. “I apologize, Klark. It’s...unbecoming of a commander-” 

“Don’t.” Clarke warned sharply. “You know I never want you to apologize for showing me  _ Leksa _ , and not Heda. I am in love with  _ you _ , not who you have to be.” 

Lexa sighed in response, and Clarke clutched her tighter. 

“Whatever it is, it’s okay. We’ll survive.” Clarke spoke dismissively, pulling Lexa close. “For now, I want to try something.” 

“...You don’t want to read it?” Lexa exhaled, her heart racing. 

Clarke shook her head. “You and I can argue about whatever is in that letter later. But first, I need you to know, I’ve made my decision.” Clarke whispered. “Remember that. It’s always you. Not my people, not your people, not our people,  _ you _ . Okay?” 

Lexa nodded, face stoic as she whispered, “And I choose you, Klark.” 

“Good.” Clarke whispered, moving to straddle Lexa, grabbing each of her hands and intertwining their fingers. 

Lexa glanced up at the goddess sat on her, half covered by furs, half nude, as the sun soaked her into a golden hue. 

“Do you ever imagine things differently?” Clarke asked, slowly rocking her hips, almost imperceptibly. 

Lexa’s jaw dropped slightly, her hands moving to graze the soft skin of Clarke’s bare hips. “What…” She licked her lips, her throat and mouth suddenly dry. “Do you mean?” 

“I mean…” Clarke sighed, lowering her mouth to Lexa’s neck, placing an opened mouth kiss along the soft skin. She inhaled deeply, her body thrilled to be greeted with Lexa’s scent- faintly of pine, of the Earth. It was her home. “What if we happened...differently.” 

“Klark.” Lexa gasped, jolting as Clarke nipped at her earlobe. 

“Nothing important would change.” Clarke continued with her dream, her voice raspy, her hips rolling against the iron of Lexa’s abdomen. “I’d still be your wife, you’d still be mine, but…” Clarke paused, leaning away to look Lexa in the eyes. 

The green in her eyes was accentuated by the rays of light that poured in on them through the window, and Clarke fell just a little deeper in love with the Commander. 

“You wouldn’t be  _ Heda _ .” Clarke finished. “Just  _ Leksa _ .  _ My Leksa _ .” 

Lexa whined softly. 

_ I would want nothing more, Klark.  _

“And we’d be free. No people, no binds, no commitments, no bloodshed, no war.” Clarke sounded melancholic, as if her dream were dying right before her eyes. 

“....But we can’t.” Lexa finished sadly, her eyes glistening, and it broke Clarke’s heart. 

Clarke slowly brought her hands to rest on either side of Lexa’s head, getting a grip on the furs as she leaned forward. 

Breasts on display, brushing against Lexa’s chest, the swell of her hips rising out of the cover of the furs. Golden locks fell down around her shoulders, and Lexa suddenly couldn’t breathe. 

There she was. 

The  _ Skai  _ girl, the one who’d stolen the air out of her lungs, her heart from her chest, all logical thought from her mind. 

The girl she would wage wars for, the girl she would defend with her own life. 

Her dearest friend. 

Her wife. 

Lexa leaned up to capture Clarke’s lips, and in turn, spurred on Clarke’s rocking motion, in some desperate attempt to bring herself closer to Lexa. 

To  _ feel  _ her. 

“Leksa.” Clarke rasped against her lips, their kisses wet and desperate. 

Slowly, Lexa could feel Clarke’s arousal pool between her thighs and slowly drip down, like nectar that called to her, inviting her to pleasure Clarke, to leave her breathless and blissful. 

“Klark.” Lexa answered breathlessly, her kiss swollen lips searching for Clarke’s, chasing them when Clarke pulled away ever so slightly, teasing her mercilessly. 

Clarke was a goddess, absolutely divine and beautiful, and Lexa was a mere mortal, subject to her will. 

Or, such was the way Lexa regarded her with those bright eyes, filled with unbridled adoration. 

“Would you run away with me?” Clarke inquired, never ceasing her movements, never slowing. 

The words hit Lexa at her core, shocking her into stillness, beneath Clarke. 

Clarke continued on, not discouraged in the least. 

“Would you leave everything behind?” Clarke asked, her voice husky and low, calling to Lexa like a siren. 

And then, Lexa understood. 

This was Clarke’s dream. Not what could be, but what she envisioned when she had nothing left, when all was bleak. She’d close her eyes, and imagine only herself and Lexa, away from any positions of power. Away from Polis, and the Ark, the Mountain, the clans, the Reapers and the Grounders. 

It was their love she dreamed of, similar to the rare days they’d spend, chasing each other through the forest when Lexa wasn’t being trained for the throne. 

Clarke wasn’t asking her to betray her duty. 

Clarke would never. 

No, Clarke was trying to share her dream, trying to convey to Lexa, in so few words, that  _ maybe someday _ , that could be their life. 

Most Commanders never survived to see their full lives play out, often slaughtered in wars and conflict, by soldiers or assassins. 

Clarke dared to dream of a different ending to her story, to their story. 

Clarke was far braver than Lexa, in that sense. 

“I would.” Lexa gasped, unaware of the tears forming in the corners of her eyes, like diamonds, shed down high cheekbones, kissed away by Clarke’s eager lips. 

She could feel Clarke peaking, and in turn, it sent a white hot wave of pleasure coursing through her, making her forget her pathetic mortality, making her forget everything and anything, save for Clarke. 

Klark. 

The feel of her body, an absolute enigma to Lexa. 

Hardened by her time on Earth, but somehow still curvaceous and soft, unlike anything Lexa had ever seen, or felt.

Clarke let out a moan that set Lexa’s insides on fire with lust, and she ran her hands down the expanse of Clarke’s body and back up again, deft fingers teasing at Clarke’s breasts before settling back at her hips, aiding her in rolling forward. 

“I’m close.” Clarke whispered, and she wondered how she managed to form words, the pleasure surging through her with no signs of slowing. 

“ _ Klark _ .” Lexa was overcome with pleasure, eyes locked on Clarke’s body, the sensual sway of her hips, the way her breasts bounced and swayed with each rocking motion. The way her kiss swollen lips formed an “O” as she reached her peak. “ _ Ai hod yu in.”  _ Lexa could only manage the one line, the one confession of love, as Clarke squeezed her eyes shut. 

Lexa watched in absolute awe as Clarke came undone on top of her, the spasms palpable even to Lexa as she watched her wife release. 

Lexa’s fingers dug into her hips, grabbing her, guiding her rocking motion against her now soaked abs as Clarke whimpered, panting heavily. 

Lexa didn’t know when she reached her peak, but there was something about the way Clarke simply  _ gave herself  _ to her that had her going over the edge as well, shivering against Clarke’s silken heat. 

Between the moans and the shivers, the goosebumps and the lazy kisses, Clarke found herself slumped against Lexa’s body, trapping the mess she’d made between them. 

She groaned contentedly, murmuring a simple, “I love you, too.” Into the soft skin of Lexa’s shoulder. 

Lexa didn’t dare move, taking a moment to take in the sight of her wife, boneless and blissful on top of her, now cuddled into her without an inch of space between them. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Clarke as tightly as she could, as if the gentle draft from the window would blow Clarke away. 

“Klark.” Lexa finally croaked, swallowing the lump in her throat. 

It was time to face reality. 

“Shhh.” Clarke whispered.

It was something inherently playful and innocent, and while it would be a capital offense to “shush” the Commander as Clarke had just done, it made Lexa grin nonetheless, and she chuckled softly, closing her eyes. 

She evened out her breathing, and within a few minutes, the two were sleeping peacefully, emotionally and physically exhausted from such a raw performance. 

Reality could wait just a little longer, it seemed. 

* * *

By the time Clarke woke, it was mid afternoon, and Lexa was nowhere in sight. 

It made her feel uneasy, but she understood that it wasn’t an option for the Commander to stay in bed as long as she pleased. 

It was with a delicious ache between her legs and a sated feeling in the pool of her stomach that Clarke found a bath had been drawn for her, per Lexa’s instruction. 

(It was truly amazing how Lexa could estimate when she’d wake, being as attuned to her wife’s body as she was). 

After bathing any evidence of their morning activities, Clarke set about finding Lexa, but her eyes instead settled on the letter. 

Lexa had left it for her, unopened, on the sole table in the room. 

Suddenly, the air in the room changed, and the bliss was gone. 

Reality set in, and Clarke realized that, no matter how she longed to simply live in peace with Lexa, that could never be. 

At least, not the way she dreamed of. 

But the first step in attaining that dream was just within reach, and that was good enough. 

Peace. 

She needed to make sure that Lexa had no reservations about letting her people into the coalition, and more importantly, she needed to make sure that they wouldn’t be a threat. 

Then, Lexa could focus on Azegda’s advances, and the civil war that was brewing between her clans. 

Just the thought of a war of that magnitude left Clarke nauseated and uneasy. 

She tried to shake the thoughts- they’d do her no good. She needed to take one step at a time. She approached the letter with shaky hands. 

Who had written it? 

Surely it was her mother, and she’d know once she saw the scrawl- but the true question was her motivation. 

Whatever the case, she was sure that Lexa would want to know, and the anticipation was nearly killing her. 

The parchment was definitely from the Ark- unnaturally white and bleached, and she was fairly sure the grounders didn’t employ the use of old adhesive envelopes. 

There was only one word written on the front, a little smudge from the ride to Polis, but legible nonetheless. 

_ Clarke.  _

Clarke blinked, taking in the way the ink stained the paper. 

It had been years since she’d seen her name written like that. 

It was nothing like Lexa’s writing- looped and elegant. (Clarke knew her writing well from the letters they’d shared- the ones Clarke kept in a box in their room). 

Clarke hadn’t realized that her hand had been shaking until she tried opening the envelope. Whether she was stalling or trying to save the paper for fear of ripping it, she moved at a torturously slow pace. 

What she found left her a little speechless. 

* * *

The war room was restless. 

The ambassadors of the clans were seated at the long oak table, with Lexa at the head, listening to their complaints, her mind clouded by far too many thoughts. 

The room was dark, lit only by candles, and Lexa watched the shadows play on the ambassador's faces, coloring their expressions far more than usual. 

Lexa’s pauldron felt heavy, and her mind even more so, despite her morning with Clarke. 

It made the transition back to her duties far less bearable, thinking about the dream future Clarke had described to her. 

Her mind flitted to Clarke, and she felt a deep pang in her gut, wondering about the contents of the letter. 

Who had written it? 

Sure her mother, Abby, what with her insolent verbiage, as if she alone could solve all the problems that plagued Earth. 

It reminded Lexa of her studies, with Anya and Titus. Wartime theory was not an easy subject, particularly for a child, but she found that even then, she was astounded by humanity’s stupidity. 

For centuries, humanity killed and enslaved one-another, and each time, the oppressors touted a sort of arrogance- the likes of which Lexa had never seen. In Grounder culture, arrogance was a sure sign of stupidity. Only a self-obsessed fool would think of himself so highly as to disregard the merits of his enemies. 

Abby was one such fool, and it pained Lexa to think that Clarke had to live under her reign as a child.

One thing was to be sure- Lexa couldn’t trust Abby, and she certainly couldn’t allow for Clarke’s people to join her coalition unless Abby was removed from power. 

In any way possible. 

“Heda.” The Trishanakru ambassador sounded exasperated. “Yet another raid from Azgeda leaves us weak. You have done nothing, while the  _ Azgeda Haiplana _ has offered us an ultimatum-” 

“What did you say?” Lexa was shaken from her thoughts, at the seemingly mundane sentence. 

Whispers filled the room, and suddenly, there was tension that hadn’t been there before. 

The man froze, his braids swinging as he turned his head, locking gazes with Lexa. 

It was a challenge issued, to be sure. 

No one looked the Commander in the eyes like that, with their chin jutted out defiantly, repeating a line that was sure to offend. 

“Perhaps you weren’t listening.” The ambassador, a man of no more than thirty years, straightened in his seat.

The whispers died, and the room fell silent in disbelief. 

All eyes fell on Lexa, who kept her expression stoic. 

“Perhaps I wasn't.” Lexa chuckled, but it was dry, and stone cold. 

Chills ran up the spine of the people closest to her, and Lexa’s guards shared a glance. 

“My people are being  _ raided  _ by those Azgeda brutes!” The ambassador was suddenly up in arms, a fire raging in his gaze. “And-” 

“Is that what I asked?” Lexa interrupted him, voice calm but loud, steady and firm. “Or did I ask you to repeat what you said?” 

The man stopped. He looked incredulous. 

“I  _ said _ , the Azegda  _ Haiplana-”  _

“That.” Lexa nodded, raising her hand. 

“What-” 

“Shof op, and spoke when spoken to.” Lexa snarled, slamming her fist down on the table. 

The ambassadors gaped, used to their diplomatic, and typically fair leader. 

“Titus!” Lexa barked, leaning back in her seat. 

Titus stepped forward from where he was standing, his gaze cast on the ambassador of Trishanakru. His eyes were dark, and his expression was grim. 

“Heda.” He offered.

“What is the law of the coalition, regarding individual rulers? It seems our  _ friend _ here has forgotten.” Lexa asked, voice dripping with mockery. 

Titus turned to the table. 

“The coalition recognizes but one sovereign, Heda. One Commander to protect and keep peace among the clans. Any other claim to authority is considered a capital offense, punishable by death.” Titus recited perfectly, and the table stilled. 

“And, my apologies, Titus. Perhaps I wasn’t listening. How did he refer to that  _ bitch,  _ Nia? The very same woman who massacres villages, slaughters children, scars the faces of her warriors?” 

The ambassador’s face paled. 

“He referred to her as  _ Haiplana.”  _ Titus answered without a moment’s hesitation.

Gasps were heard among the less composed ambassadors. 

“And in gonasleng, Haiplana is...Queen, is it not, Titus?” Lexa batted her lashes. 

“Indeed, Heda.” 

The ambassador stood up from his chair, and Lexa’s guards tensed. 

“My people are  _ dying _ !” He roared. “They are being slaughtered while you sit on your throne, waited on by your blind servants!” 

Lexa didn’t flinch. 

She didn’t blink, or falter. 

She simply stared on. 

“Haiplana Nia offers us redemption! For too long, Trishanakru has been ignored in the coalition! Our demands will be met! Under Nia’s new rule, the coalition will freeze over, and we will all be reunified under Azgeda!” His voice thundered in the relatively small room, causing the candles nearest him to flicker and burn out. 

He spoke as if he were rallying the world’s mightiest army, as if to galvanized those in the room, to bring them to his cause. 

Lexa shook her head, tsking. 

With a disgusted sigh, she rose from her chair. 

“Guards.” She nodded, and the two nearest him moved forward, reaching to grab his arms, pulling him from the table. 

Ambassadors watched in shock, but none opened their mouths to protest. 

It was unheard of, for the Commander to behave so unpredictably and violently. 

Heda Leksa Kom Trikru was a Commander of diplomacy, and peace. 

“This is your answer, mighty Heda?!” The man spat, though panic was evident in his gaze. “You’d maim your ambassadors to keep them obedient? You’d silence the cries of your people in times of need?!” 

Lexa looked at him intensely. 

“Strip him.” She commanded boredly. 

Gasps of outrage filled the room, and suddenly, Lexa was swarmed with protests. 

“Heda, this is unheard of!” 

“Heda, if he is to die, let it be with dignity!” 

“This is against the coalition!” 

Lexa waved her hand once, dismissing their voices. 

Her guards knocked the ground twice with their spears in unison, effectively cutting off any more noise. 

Lexa’s guards began stripping the man as he writhed and struggled. 

As soon as his shirt was removed, the room fell silent. 

“As you all know, Azgeda brands its spies with laceration scars beneath the clothing.” Lexa snorted. 

When the “ambassador” moved to speak, Lexa struck him across the face, the sound echoing in the room. 

The other ambassadors stared on in shock.

The only people who didn’t look terrified were Lexa, Titus, and the guards, with the rest of the people going into a frenzy. 

The bowed their heads in apology to the Commander, while others were unable to process it. 

“Our friend from Trishanakru here defected to Azgeda very recently.” Lexa announced with a little smirk, her eyes feral. “I believe the sole purpose was to spread misinformation in our summit, in hopes of fear mongering on Azgeda’s behalf.” 

When the spy moved to speak once more, Lexa grabbed him by the braids atop the back of his head, exposing his neck to the table. 

“Traitors are not afforded the privilege of speaking.” Lexa reminded him. “Nor are they afforded the privilege of living. You will be held for information, after which, you will be sentenced to death. Trishanakru has been notified of your imprisonment, and their true ambassador is already in Polis.” Lexa smiled, predatory and terrifying. She turned to the ambassadors. “Let this be an example to those of you who would take advantage of my good will for nefarious purposes- your bodies will hang to greet Azgeda when we march to eradicate them like the plague they have become. Dismissed.” 

Lexa slammed the traitor’s head against the solid oak, watching as he slumped pathetically to the ground, shaking her head in disgust as she stepped over him, and out the room, with a firmer grasp on her people than ever before. 

* * *

By late afternoon, Lexa was finally free of her daily agenda, and dealing with the fate of the traitor. 

The day had taken its toll on her, and she was grateful Clarke wasn’t there to witness it. 

She never liked playing the executioner, but it was a skill she’d learned was vital for the Commander to possess. 

Titus had always told her- wartime was the time to prove her strength and prowess, in order to maintain the faith and spirits of the people who’d pledged their livelihood to her. 

And today, she’d done just that. 

The information had come from Anya, whose scouts had seen the so called “ambassador” riding out to the borders to receive information, in the dead of night. 

Nia was trying all sorts of warfare against Lexa, more than just outright bloodshed, and it had the potential to be very damaging to her, if she didn’t find a way to quell it, soon.

Every day, she worried about Nia’s plans to march, and where she’d strike first. 

If Clarke could somehow convince her people to join the coalition, and Lexa could perform the near impossible task of getting her own ambassadors to understand, they would have a far greater chance of coming out of this war alive. 

Clarke’s people controlled technology beyond Lexa’s wildest dreams, and while she knew it had the potential to destroy all she’d built, she also knew it could save countless lives from Nia’s rabid, savage army. 

And then, there was another thought. 

If Nia somehow got to Clarke’s people first, and raided them for their tech, it was sure death for Lexa and her people. 

Everything was hanging in the balance, and Lexa wasn’t sure how to wrap her mind around any of it. 

She felt constantly exhausted, and wondered if she were liable to drop dead at any second. 

She slid into her chambers and sighed when she heard the guards take position on the other side. 

One day. 

One day, she wouldn’t have to fear for her life, and Clarke’s life. 

She would die fighting for that day, if it meant Clarke could still reap the benefits. 

Lexa barely had time to register the feeling of her pauldron being unstrapped, suddenly, by familiar hands. 

“You look exhausted.” Clarke rasped, sounding incredibly tired herself. “But still very beautiful.” Clarke added, smiling to herself when she saw the red tint color Lexa’s cheeks. 

Clarke fretted over her, removing everything but Lexa’s shirt and pants, hanging them on the designated pegs before finally coming back to Lexa, sliding her hands over Lexa’s cheeks, forcing their tired eyes to meet. 

“Troublesome day?” Lexa asked, trying not to sound desperately curious. 

“You could say that.” Clarke gave her a tired smile, and opened her arms. 

It was just what Lexa needed. 

The two met in a tight hug, burrowing as close into one another as they could afford, clutching each other with all the strength left in them. 

Moments passed like that, in the relative silence, until Clarke was the first to pull away, tugging Lexa toward the bed, urging her to sit. 

Lexa sat back on the bed, remaining upright, eyes focused on her wife. Her clothes and lack of armor indicated that she hadn’t left the tower at all, which meant that whatever it was in the letter had kept her from her daily activity. 

That wasn’t good. 

“I can hear you thinking.” Clarke whispered, running her hands through Lexa’s braids. “May I undo these?” She asked gently. 

“You don’t have to ask.” Lexa whispered back, and then added a small, “please” that left Clarke’s heart aching. 

Clarke smiled and got on her knees, moving to kneel behind Lexa on the bed. Lexa groaned softly when Clarke’s fingers grazed her scalp. 

“I outed the Azgeda spy today.” Lexa mumbled. 

Clarke’s smirk was evident in her voice. “About time.” 

“It had to be done precisely when he was trying to spread the misinformation. So I could-” 

“Make an example out of him. I know.” Clarke nodded, undoing the first of many sets of braids. “...Was it hard?” 

“No.” Lexa answered easily. “He was insolent.” 

Clarke chuckled behind her, carding her fingers through thick brunette locks. She kissed the top of Lexa’s head affectionately. 

“Thank you for the bath.” 

Lexa smiled almost dopily, and she was grateful for the gargantuan door that kept everyone else out, for it was such a raw display of Leksa and not at all Heda. 

“Did you enjoy it,  _ ai niron _ ?” 

“I did. I would’ve loved it more if you were there.” Clarke sighed dramatically, and Lexa’s shoulders shook a little as she laughed. 

“Someday.” Lexa promised gently, as Clarke finished off the last braid, admiring the sheer beauty of Lexa’s hair, wavy and long. She seemed softer, more relaxed, and Clarke felt privileged to be able to see her this way. “We’ll have so much time to spend together, you’ll tire of me.” 

“I don’t think I could ever get enough of you.” Clarke reminded, coming around, her tattoo on display. Lexa took her hands and brought them to her lips in an affectionate gesture of thanks, but the kisses trailed up to her tattoo. Her soft lips pressed against Clarke’s skin, as her eyes met Clarke’s. 

A moment of silence passed between them, and it became clear that one question remained largely unanswered. 

“I read the letter.” Clarke decided there was no avoiding this conversation. 

Lexa’s eyes shined with interest, and she leaned back, watching as Clarke stood up to deliver the news. 

“...It was from my dad.” Clarke spoke with a fond little smile, one that disarmed Lexa completely. “He...wants me to come back, to Arkadia.” 

“Arkadia?” Lexa asked, the word cumbersome on her tongue. 

Clarke rubbed the back of her neck. “That’s what they’re calling the crash site.” 

Lexa’s eyes narrowed. “They’re establishing a territory in the middle of Trikru lands.” 

Clarke nodded quickly. “I know. Lexa, they...don’t know what they’re getting into. I think a visit and some long conversations could bring us closer to brokering peace than we have been so far.” 

Lexa scoffed, unable to believe Clarke’s sudden shift in behavior. Why would she have so much faith in them suddenly? 

“Klark, our prior visits have been less than diplomatic.” She stressed, trying not to clench her teeth in anger, not towards Clarke, but her people. 

“That’s because...you were there.” Clarke admitted uneasily. 

Like a blow to the gut, Lexa flinched, eyes blinking rapidly. 

Clarke looked heartbroken to have been the one to say it, hoping that Lexa would catch on. 

She did not. 

“You mean to tell me that they requested that you come alone?” Lexa snarled. 

Clarke sighed. “Well, not in those exact words, but yes-” 

“Absolutely not.” Lexa stood, sniffing dismissively.

Clarke’s expression was one of disbelief. 

“I’m sorry?” Clarke echoed. 

“No. That’s final, Klark.” Lexa spoke in a low tone, as if threatened. 

“No?” Clarke scoffed. “Lexa, that’s not exactly what I was hoping you’d say-” 

“A ruler is forced to make difficult decisions.” Lexa shrugged loftily, her voice dripping with faux assuredness, and arrogance. 

Clarke laughed dryly. “This isn’t your decision to make.” 

Lexa turned to stare her in the eyes. 

“I forbid it, Klark. As Heda, I  _ will _ order my guards to keep you within the city walls, if you make this difficult.” She spoke with a caustic quality to her voice. 

“I’m not your subject.” Clarke growled. 

“You’re my  _ wife _ .” 

“Then act like it.” Clarke got in her face, challenging her. She even went so far as to grab Lexa’s collar, pulling them eye to eye. 

“I’m sorry, Klark.” Lexa murmured. 

Clarke was relentless. “So what, I’m your prisoner again?” 

“Yes.” Lexa hissed. 

Clarke pulled her closer, putting her forehead against Lexa’s, and Lexa absolutely hated the way her body betrayed her, craving Clarke’s body against hers, where she was safest. 

“You won’t lose me.” Clarke whispered. 

“Klark, I-” 

“Lexa, for years, you’ve never ordered me around. Never treated me as anything less than your equal. I know you’re bluffing. I know what you’re trying to do, and I love you so,  _ so  _ much for trying.” Clarke spoke with a little knowing smile, and Lexa ducked her head shamefully, afraid of the lengths she’d go to, to protect her wife. “You know I can take care of myself.” 

“I…” Lexa trailed off once more. “I apologize.” 

“I forgive you.” Clarke promised, not at all bothered by the fake display of “dominance”. She knew her wife and best friend far too well to fall for that. “But,  _ ai hodnes,  _ you have to let me go. You have to trust me. As soon as I’ve secured peace with them, I’m coming straight back to you. It’s only a few days.” 

“I can come, I can stay outside the border-” Lexa tried, but Clarke read where she was going with that, and shook her head. 

“They need you here, to find out Azgeda’s plan of attack.” Clarke reminded her, and Lexa sighed tragically, because she knew it was true. 

Lexa still looked incredibly uncertain, and Clarke saw her opportunity to convince her. 

“You know they’d never hurt me, right? Lexa, my  _ parents  _ will be there.” 

Lexa looked away, worrying her lip. 

Clarke sighed. “If that’s not it...then what is it? Lexa, I won’t leave until we both agree to this, so let’s talk about it.” 

“...They don’t approve of our relationship, Clarke.” Lexa mumbled, suddenly sounding like a child, unsure of the very words coming from her own lips. “They see us as savages, and they see our relationship, in particular, as forced-” 

“It’s not.” Clarke scoffed. “And I’ll have a chance to tell them that-” 

“Isn’t it?” Lexa asked, glancing at Clarke. 

Clarke looked taken aback, when realization suddenly hit her. “Lexa, even  _ you  _ know you didn’t mean it. They don’t...understand. They don’t understand why you’re the leader-” 

Lexa scowled. 

“You’re young.” Clarke reminded softly. “They don’t understand how you can carry the burden of so many people-” 

“It is my duty.” Lexa murmured. 

“I know. Believe me,  _ hodnes _ , I know. And I’m going to make them understand. You have to let me try.” 

Lexa took a moment, blinking away the moisture in her gaze, and sighed. 

“When do you leave?” 

Clarke gave her a warm smile, elated at having reached an agreement. 

“We can decide on that together. But for now, you’re done with your duties for the day, right?” 

Lexa nodded, wondering what else she could possibly have to face before she could curl into the beckoning furs of her bed with her wife. 

“Good.” Clarke reached out, lacing her fingers with Lexa’s. “There’s something I want to show you.” 

* * *

“Klark.” Lexa shook her head as she waited impatiently on the bed with her eyes covered, part of Clarke’s surprise.

“Okay, open them up.” Clarke chuckled. 

Lexa did, and faced Clarke, who’d sat beside her, holding a black bag that looked too modern to be made by Grounders. 

Lexa made a face of distaste at the foreign object, and Clarke rolled her eyes. 

“You’re too stubborn.” Clarke tutted.

“What...is it?” Lexa inquired, and Clarke only smiled in response, opening up the bag. 

Within it were two black rectangles, about the size of a hand, each. 

Lexa’s eyes narrowed at the unfamiliar objects, and she bristled like a spooked cat. 

Clarke grinned even wider, leaning over to capture her pouting lips in a kiss that had Lexa forgetting all about the rectangles. 

“Don’t be afraid.” Clarke whispered with a soft laugh that made Lexa smile like a damn fool. 

“I’m not.” Lexa mumbled. 

“These are going to make you feel a  _ lot _ better about letting me go.” Clarke told her. 

“Highly unlikely.” 

Clarke ignored that. “They’re radios. They’ll allow us to stay in contact while I’m away.” 

Lexa pulled a face. “Impossible. How does it work?” 

Clarke thought for a moment, contemplating explaining frequencies to Lexa, but decided on giving her a practical demonstration instead. 

“Go into the next room. Press this button here, and speak into the radio. Once you’re finished, say “over” and release the button. I’ll answer. Remember, you won’t be able to hear me if you’re pressing it down.” 

Lexa looked dumbfounded. 

“Just do it.” Clarke handed her one, and watched her grumble something, but diligently follow her directions. 

Clarke watched for her radio, and heard it crackle in and out once. 

“...Klark.” 

A beep sounded, and then another. “...Over.” The word sounded heavy on her tongue once more. Gonasleng was a slow and hefty language. 

“ _ Ai hod yu in _ , over.” Clarke smirked, talking into her walkie. 

Lexa stared at her walkie, hearing the crackling come to life in the exact sound of her wife’s voice. 

She came back into the room in a flurry, eyes wide. 

Clarke could only laugh. 

“You mean to tell me that this would enable us to speak at long distances?” 

“Up to thirty miles.” Clarke nodded. “...So yes.” She elaborated further. 

Lexa’s eyes widened. “...And you failed to mention these...because….” 

“I didn’t have them!” Clarke defended. “I...may have stolen them while we were at the Ark.” 

Lexa’s eyes widened at her wife’s prowess. 

She hadn’t imagined that the  _ tek  _ the Ark boasted could also be useful in aspects other than war. 

Though, thinking of it, Lexa decided that these so called “radios” would make excellent wartime communication devices. 

“I know what you’re thinking, and yes, once I broker peace and get them to agree to joining the coalition...there are more where these came from.” 

Lexa’s eyes widened, and she fell silent. 

“But for now, I’ll use it to talk to you. Keep it on you at all times, and I’ll keep mine hidden.” Clarke instructed. “And if anything ever goes wrong, you tell me, and I promise to tell you, okay?” 

“You have my word.” Lexa vowed seriously, and Clarke smiled fondly at her diplomacy. 

“But tonight, I’m still here. You have other ways to tell me...and show me...how much you love me.” She rasped, suddenly locking eyes with her wife. 

She savored Lexa’s surprised giggle as she pounced, pinning her to the furs with a loving grin. 


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, this is unbeta'd and likely rife with errors ;)

Clarke woke to the sound of rain tapping the window, falling from the skies and littering the streets of Polis with droplets of water, slicking the cobblestone streets below. 

For once, Lexa’s tower was quiet, not bustling, not filled with arguing ambassadors, under the guise of diplomacy. 

Titus was not striding down the hall to interrupt them. 

Anya was not urging Lexa into an early morning training session. 

No. 

Everything was quiet, as if the entire city and the sky itself were mourning Clarke’s absence to come, her journey back to the Ark. 

Clarke’s eyes fell on her wife, who of course, was not asleep. 

And how could she be, knowing where she was sending Clarke, unsure if she’d ever see her again? 

Lexa was beautiful, her brunette waves messily splayed across the furs, her nude body half exposed, revealing a collarbone that Clarke wanted to line with kisses. 

Lexa’s neck already bore marks of a slightly purple-reddish hue, gifts from Clarke from last night. 

Clarke propped her head up on her elbow, reaching out to rub soothing lines against Lexa’s skin, entranced by her lover. She wore a fond smile, despite the somber mood of the morning. 

“It’s raining.” Lexa mumbled, eyes finding Clarke’s. 

“Mhmm.” Clarke hummed, wrapping her arms around Lexa, so that she was spooning her. 

She wouldn’t admit it, for fear of tarnishing her mighty name as Heda, but Lexa adored being held. Something about the warmth of it- her bare skin pressed against Clarke’s, the tight embrace of her arms- it made Lexa feel more at home and safer than she had ever felt in her life. 

“It could be...potentially dangerous to ride out in this weather.” Lexa’s throat bobbed as Clarke’s arms wound around her, leaving chills over her bare skin. 

“Lexa.” Clarke whispered by her ear, pressing wet kisses to Lexa’s neck, just below. 

“Perhaps a delay in the-” 

“ _ Ai houmon.”  _ Clarke’s husky voice sent chills down Lexa’s spine. 

Lexa gave up her act, sighing heavily. 

“Nothing will happen to me.” Clarke assured, relishing in the feel of Lexa’s weight and warmth in her arms. 

“How can I be sure?” Lexa whispered, sounding broken. 

“ _ Hodnes _ . I watched you ride into battle, time and time again. I know better than to stop you, though it pains me to watch you leave. This is not that. These are my people, Lexa. They won’t harm me. It’s  _ you _ I’m worried about, which is why it’s paramount that you keep your distance. If they see you as a threat, they…” Clarke trailed off, swallowing a lump in her suddenly dry throat. 

“And if they keep you from me?” Lexa spoke, but it came as a growl. 

The mere idea of being kept from her wife, her  _ hodnes _ , her confidant and greatest ally...it filled Lexa with a white hot rage. 

“Lexa, I was born in the stars and I found my way down here to you, how much more proof do you need to see that I will always find my way back to your side?” Clarke asked, voice soft and slow, reassuring. 

At that, the flame burning within Lexa subsided, and her green eyes appeared calmer than before. Grumpily, she frowned, and Clarke couldn’t help it. She reached over Lexa’s shoulder, to kiss the curve that formed in the corner of her mouth, dissolving the frown in seconds. 

“I find it difficult to focus on much else when you’re away.” Lexa admitted. 

Clarke gave her a knowing smile. “I know. But your hands are tied, Lexa. You have to get back to dealing with the ambassadors.” Clarke’s voice grew weary. “Azgeda can’t be ignored. I’m sorry my people are causing such a distraction.” Clarke added. “I intend to fix that.” 

“Spoken like a true diplomat.” Lexa turned to face Clarke, visibly brightening just by seeing her face. Lexa propped herself up, mirroring Clarke. “And if they don’t care for you well?” 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Quit being so protective.” 

“I  _ am  _ your wife.” Lexa drawled, and the words made Clarke smile.

“I’ll contact you from the radio, at night, when I’m alone.” Clarke promised. 

“I’ll await your contact.” Lexa promised with a hefty sigh. 

Clarke figured that was the best she was going to receive from Lexa, knowing just how uncomfortable she was with the entire situation. 

She carded her fingers through Lexa’s curls, offering just a moment of peace to her wife, before she’d have to ride off, back to a family she hadn’t known in years. 

* * *

The sound of the horses’ hooves sloshing against the wet grass lulled Clarke into a calm state on the ride back to the Ark, accompanied by the ever stoic Anya, one of the only people Lexa trusted for the task. 

(No matter how much Clarke had tried to assure her that she could, in fact, make the ride alone.) 

Dew-like drops of rain slid off the leaves of the surrounding trees, falling all around them as they approached the edge of the woods, before the clearing that held the Ark. 

“This is where I leave you.” Anya finally spoke for the first time since they set off from Polis, incredibly efficient at maintaining her stoic approach. 

Clarke nodded, murmuring her thanks. 

Anya, however, made no movement to leave. 

Instead, she glanced up at Clarke, her regal features displaying no obvious sign of emotion. 

“She wished to be here, with you.” Anya’s monotone voice gave nothing away, and Clarke was reminded of the days she first met Lexa and Anya. 

“I know she has other matters to attend to.” Clarke chose to answer with her diplomatic guard up, knowing how little sentimental talk meant to Anya. 

“I’m not Titus.” Anya replied evenly. “I think worth is proven, Wanheda.” She dipped her head slightly, a rare sign of respect from the General. “I’ve known Lexa since she could barely wrap her small hands around the hilt of her dulled practice sword. I know her temperament, her logic, her ability to bring peace. And I know that much is dependent on you.” Anya continued, still no aggressive nor overly praiseful lilt to her tone to indicate her feelings. “You are Klark kom Trikru.” 

Clarke wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

Was it a veiled threat? A reminder of Clarke’s loyalties before she went and buried herself deep behind enemy lines, with a complete knowledge of all of the clans’ weaknesses? 

She studied Anya’s gaze and raised her chin defiantly. 

“I know.” Clarke replied, voice steady like an unmoving boulder. 

“Then you know that Trikru protects its own.” Anya finished, a little quietly, and suddenly, Clarke realized her intention. 

This was Anya’s consolation. Her offering of protection. 

Her incredibly stoic, brisk way of telling Clarke that she would do anything to protect her, just as she knew Lexa would ask her to, if the need arose. 

And Clarke hoped it wouldn’t. 

She reached out to grab Anya’s forearm, and Anya mirrored her action, the two locked in a silent embrace. 

Clarke spoke, not once breaking their gaze. “Protect  _ her _ .” 

It was almost as if she made Anya swear it, with her gaze alone, but she saw Anya’s curt nod in response, and it was all she needed. 

“May we...meet again.” Anya murmured, the words foreign to her. 

Clarke wouldn’t have believed it- if anyone had told her that Anya had just offered words of farewell to her in her own tongue. 

She offered Anya a wry smile, thinking back to the days where she would barely acknowledge Clarke’s existence. 

“We will.” She offered, just a hint of wry humor to her tone, before she was spurring her horse on past Anya, out to the clearing ahead. 

* * *

“I don’t want anyone gathering near the gate.” Abby snapped from where she was working in the med-bay, checking over the wounds of the most recent hunting party- if they could be called that. 

Sending a group of armed officers into the woods seemed like a sound plan, but they hadn’t been prepared for what they would find. 

Horrified whispers of mutated creatures and trauma were the only clues Abby had as to what they had seen. 

They’d come back with a few measly rabbits, and the Ark’s supply of food was nearing its end. 

Things were incredibly dire. 

“What do you mean?” Jake, who’d been holding the gauze she’d been using, paused in his tracks. 

“I want her to feel welcome.” Abby defended. “That means no one gawking at her. And I want Pike kept  _ away _ .” 

“He’s still on the second hunting party you sent out.” Jake sighed. “Abby, I see what you’re trying to do-” 

“I’m trying to orchestrate peace with a foreign nation that our daughter happens to be a figure of power in.” Abby seethed, throwing away soiled gauze into the crate in the corner, now their makeshift waste bin. “And I have a power hungry, potential tyrant on my hands. My people are injured, hungry, and afraid. Jake, this is up to us to solve.” 

“And your plan is to make her think everything is okay here?” Jake scoffed. 

“No. But I don’t exactly want her seeing how terribly we’re struggling.” 

“Oh good god, Abby, is this about your pride?” Jake snapped. 

“No, Jacob, this is about giving  _ them _ the upper hand. If they see how bad things are, we will have  _ no _ bargaining chip.”

“What is there to bargain, Abby?” Jake massaged his temples. “I understand that you feel responsible for these people, but what control do we have over-” 

“I cannot hand us over to them. There’s no way of knowing how we would be treated, or if they would even spare us after they’ve taken our weapons-” 

“Yes, there is!” Jake cried. “Clarke, Abby! Our daughter!” 

Abby’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t even know if she’s there by choice!” 

“Her word isn’t enough for you?” Jake set the gauze down, unable to stomach the conversation anymore. 

“That...that might not be our Clarke.” Abby sniffed, pushing past Jake to tend to the next row of patients. 

Before Jake could even respond, Marcus Kane entered through the doorway. 

“She’s here, Abby.” 

* * *

Clarke had found them waiting for her, the gate opening with ease as she rode in. 

A younger one of the guards offered to tie her horse away, and reluctantly she handed him the reins with an unsure glance. 

He’d certainly taken his time, staring at her, and Clarke couldn’t help but imagine Lexa bristling and snapping at him if she were there. 

She already missed Lexa more than she cared to admit, as she’d grown accustomed to sitting beside Lexa during nearly all of their daily tasks. 

While she’d expected her mother to come out to greet her, she found a curious replacement. 

Bellamy Blake, sporting a noticeable rifle on his back, and his left bicep in a bandage. 

Clarke kept from narrowing her eyes. 

Her parents had penned the letter, and yet, they opted not to greet her. 

“Clarke.” Bellamy greeted, a disarming sort of half smile on his features. She didn’t know him all too well, but that was true of everyone from her time on the Ark. Mundane memories of the people she knew had been replaced in her mind with memories of Earth: the woods, hunting, survival, Polis,  _ Lexa.  _ The memories formed like an overgrown expanse of forest, covering the places where her old memories resided. 

“Bellamy.” Clarke nodded, gesturing to his arm. “You’re injured.” 

Bellamy glanced down, and Clarke noticed the almost imperceptible furrow of his brows, the quiver of his lip, reliving the fear, the adrenaline. 

“We started sending out hunting parties.” Bellamy affirmed, voice deep, firm. 

Clarke’s eyes sparkled with newfound understanding. “It’s not as easy as it sounded in Earth Skills, is it?” 

Bellamy’s lip quirked in a wry smile. “No.” He licked his lips. “Though, I don’t remember Pike ever mentioning two-headed stags, either.” 

Clarke nodded slowly, remembering her first such encounter with the stags that roamed the area. 

Lexa had shown her how much absolute skill and patience it took to properly hunt them. 

“It charged you, didn’t it?” Clarke queried. 

Bellamy nodded. “I was lucky, it grazed me. Keller got the worst of it. It…” 

“Impaled him?” Clarke asked unflinchingly. 

Bellamy shook his head. “Pike managed to drag him away just in time, but he has some nasty cuts.” 

“Pike seems to be useful here.” Clarke tested the waters. 

She received a firm gaze from Bellamy, accompanied by a nod. 

“He is. He knows what he’s doing.” 

_ Likely story.  _

Clarke pulled her cloak a little tighter, water droplets clinging to her lashes. 

Bellamy seemed to snap out of his haze.

“The others are waiting for you at the hangar.” 

“The others?” Clarke lifted her gaze. 

“The Delinquents have arranged a little...welcome home party for you.” Bellamy replied, as he set off towards the Ark. 

“For me?” Clarke blinked. 

Frankly, she wasn’t sure how she felt about seeing the others. She felt no bond, no connection to them. Though a part of her longed to be with them, she didn’t know if it were possible to feel that way again, after so many years apart. 

It seemed, for whatever reason (or whatever games her mother was playing), she would have to indulge them. 

For now. 

* * *

The hangar, Clarke had learned, had been refitted to serve as the common space for everyone on the Ark to gather. 

There wasn’t much to it- most of it was used to house the Rovers, but enough of it was free for a few chairs. 

When Clarke had first arrived, she’d felt the stares on her. 

Raven and Finn- once again, sitting closely together. Monty and Jasper- the least judgemental of the group, regarding Clarke with genuine smiles, waving around their moonshine in her face, proud of their creation. 

(Clarke tried to shove down any thoughts of how much she wanted Lexa to try moonshine, just to see her reaction). 

Octavia was leaned back in her seat, always a little cold, stubborn as usual. They’d left a clear seat open for Clarke.

Only one thing had given Clarke pause, when she’d entered. 

A sound, so familiar and yet foreign at once, filled her ears, and she had to pause mid step. 

Music. 

Not just any music- (and Clarke would be the first to admit, the Grounders were particularly skilled musicians)- but  _ old  _ music. Recorded music. Music that she grew up listening to, in the confines of her suite on the Ark with Jake and Abby. 

Music that Jake and Abby would slow dance to, in the evenings, when Clarke would retire to bed, and then peek out of the slit from her door. 

Music that played at Ark functions from speakers, sounding so far away, untouchable, unattainable like the Earth below them. 

Music that she told Lexa about, never able to describe its magic with words alone- and still, Lexa would listen with wide eyes and responsive nods, trying to imagine. 

Clarke had forgotten that they’d had the equipment necessary. She’d forgotten about music altogether. 

A few sips of the moonshine seemed to have done the trick in loosening Clarke up, however, and she found herself...enjoying the company of the people who would’ve been her closest friends, her family, had she stayed behind. 

At first, it’d been tense- but as the minutes passed, and the alcohol flowed, they began to fall into a sort of rhythm. 

Monty and Jasper went off on a rant-like story about how they were nearly busted for stealing something from the kitchens, and it had everyone laughing. 

Clarke found herself grinning throughout, memories coming back to her as they described their hijinks on the Ark. 

Eventually, they leaned forward, eyeing Clarke’s coat and her boots, as if dying to ask her about it. 

Maybe it was the moonshine, but instead of being guarded for once, Clarke opted to give in just a little. 

“You’ve….lived here.” Finn began, and Raven watched the way he looked at Clarke, bright eyed. “I’m sure you have stories, Clarke.” 

Clarke closed her eyes for a moment. 

Oh, certainly. 

Stories of pain, of loneliness, and struggling. Feeling hunger deep in her stomach, having to learn to take a life to eat, things she never thought she would have to do. Stories of how she was an outcast for so long, at odds with everything and everyone she knew, for so long. 

But there were also stories of triumph. Moments that changed her life, her being, forever. Her first successful hunt, mastering the bow, the blade, sparring with some of the fiercest warriors. And then there were private memories. 

Memories of Lexa, the moonlight kissing her face, her sparkling green eyes as she told Clarke secrets she thought she’d never share. The softness of her lips, meeting Clarke’s for the first time. The feeling of loving her, baring her soul to her. 

“Yeah.” Clarke nodded. “I have stories.” 

Bellamy leaned back in his seat, arms folded. 

“Are you a….soldier?” Monty asked, curious gaze on Clarke. 

“...Not per se.” Clarke began. 

“She can fight, though.” Raven spoke up. “Badass, too.” 

Clarke hid a smile. “Most Grounders know how, it’s the only way to survive.” 

“Wow.” Jasper breathed. “So you’ve...fought…” 

“In wars.” Clarke finished with a nod. “Yeah.” 

Octavia’s interest was piqued. She leaned forward in her seat, eyes sparkling with interest. 

“There are twelve clans, all under Lexa’s command.” Clarke began. “You’ve only seen Trikru and Azegda. The tree people, and the ice nation.” 

“The others.” Bellamy cleared his throat. “Are they close?” 

“None of them are close. You’re in Trikru territory, and it stretches on for miles. To the north, Azgeda is the coldest, up in the mountains.” 

“Have you...traveled?” Raven asked, curiosity getting the best of her. 

“I’ve only seen the rivers.” Clarke admitted. “Beyond that, I-” 

“Lexa doesn’t visit all of the clans?” Bellamy pressed.

Clarke bristled. “She does. I don’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“The opportunity hasn’t arisen.” Clarke replied tersely. She didn’t appreciate Bellamy’s pathetic digs for information. 

“So you can leave her side?” 

“Bellamy…” Finn cautioned. 

Clarke wheeled around to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m just curious as to what your arrangement is.” Bellamy shrugged. “What does it mean to be a wife in Grounder culture?” 

Clarke sucked in a breath, trying to steady herself, in efforts not to deck him where he sat, smug and ignorant. 

“It’s a lot less slave like and restrictive than our ways.” Clarke snapped. 

It was Bellamy’s turn to take offense, looking affronted. 

“Let’s calm down, and-” Finn’s attempts to intervene were cut off by Clarke. 

“I don’t appreciate the sanctimonious bullshit.” Clarke growled. “And I don’t appreciate your attempts to poke and prod under the guise of friendship.” 

“That’s not what we-” Monty was cut off, too. 

“The old ways are over.” Clarke got up from her seat, shaking her head. “You can either adapt, or die trying. I’m going to find my parents.” 

“Clarke, wait-” Finn’s attempt to keep her at bay failed, and Clarke left, leaving the group silent, for a moment. 

Raven was the first to speak, narrowing her eyes at Finn. 

“Why do you care so much?” She demanded. 

Finn looked incredulous. “You guys are treating her like shit!” 

Monty and Jasper gave their quiet nods of agreeance. “She might be our only chance at peace, and you’re too busy carrying Pike’s orders out?” 

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “At least we  _ know  _ Pike.” 

Octavia remained silent, eyes shifting towards her brother, and then the ground, her jaw tight as she contemplated saying anything. 

She opted against it. 

* * *

A knock at the doors of Abby’s quarters had her and Jake pausing, faces twisting into looks of confusion before finally getting up to answer it. 

When the doors slid open, they hadn’t expected to find their daughter standing behind them, chin raised, a regal look to her. 

“Clarke?” Abby blinked. Jake stepped forward first, embracing her in a hug, and then Abby followed suit. 

It felt strange, being in their embrace, but not for the right reasons. 

It felt strange because Clarke could  _ feel _ that they were avoiding her, hiding something. She felt like a lamb in a lion’s den. 

With her own mother and father. 

Abby stepped back, and she looked more than tired. She looked weary, her arms awkwardly falling to her sides. 

“We were coming to get you-” 

“I found my way just fine.” Clarke replied, stepping forward. “Can we talk?” 

Abby looked hesitant, but Jake shook his head. 

“Of course, close the door.” He motioned for Clarke to have a seat, and Clarke slowly approached the bed, the linens looking foreign to her after years and years of sleeping under furs. 

Her entire existence had changed. 

“I see the power is up and running.” Clarke murmured. 

Abby nodded. “Your father managed to maintain some of the generators. We don’t know how long the repairs will hold, though.” 

“You need wax.” Clarke informed them, straight to the point with her logic. 

_ My god, I’m becoming Lexa.  _

“...right.” Abby responded, as if the idea were somehow primitive. 

As if living in a metal cage, too afraid to venture more than a mile in any direction,  _ wasn’t _ primitive. 

“I had help. Raven Reyes is...exceptionally bright.” He offered kindly, as he and Abby took their seats across from Clarke, as if they were unable to bear being closer to her. 

“She was part of my  _ welcoming party _ .” Clarke narrowed her eyes. “I suspect you had a hand in that.” 

Abby snorted. “You can’t blame me for taking an interest in you, Clarke, the way you came in here, swords drawn, fighting…” 

“And Bellamy’s poking and prodding? You put him up to it, too?” Clarke rolled her eyes. 

Jake frowned, and Abby paused. “Poking and prodding?” She repeated, her protective mother instincts coming into play. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Clarke waved her off. “As you can imagine, I’ve gotten pretty good at handling things myself. I’m here because of the letter. To broker peace.” 

“Clarke. It isn’t that simple.” Abby began. Jake looked at her dubiously. 

“It really is.” Clarke folded her arms, all business. “I want to help you all. I don’t know why you wouldn’t trust me. I understand that you’re scared, but look at how you’re living.” 

“And how is that?” Abby pressed. 

“Your cleanest source of water is the rain, which you’re trying to preserve in leaky barrels and buckets, you’re armed to the teeth but you don’t know how to  _ survive _ out here, and you’re getting in the middle of a war you  _ really _ want to be on the right side of. Your generators were damaged in the fall, your people are starving, morale is low, and Pike is a threat. I don’t know what you  _ think _ of the Grounders, but they  _ do _ have cutthroat politics, and I’ve been immersed in it long enough to recognize the signs. Pike  _ will _ seize control, and if he does, that becomes a problem. Unavoidable bloodshed for both sides. Is this what you want?” Clarke spoke like a true ambassador, and she tried not to think of how Lexa would be glowing with pride at her words. 

Jake was nodding all along. “She’s right, Abby.” 

Abby glanced around, padding over to the door, pressing her ear against it. 

She leaned back, nodding, satisfied. 

“Clarke.” She sighed out in a long breath. “First...I need to ask you something. It’s not easy for me to ask this, and it’s not easy for you to...tell us. But Clarke, honey, we need to know. Are you okay? Has anyone-” 

“Mom.” Clarke pinched the bridge of her nose. “For the hundredth and  _ final _ time, yes. I am okay. No, no one forced me. No, this is not an arranged marriage. I have every freedom I would have had coming down here with you all, except I think it’s safe to say I live a much more luxurious and comfortable life than you all are right now.” Clarke added that in for emphasis. 

Abby looked a bit taken aback, and Jake let a full on snort of laughter out. 

Clarke couldn’t help but give him the hints of a cheeky smile. 

She’d missed her father so much. 

She’d missed her mother, too. If she could just get Abby to relax this ignorant, belligerent chancellor’s attitude, and be her  _ mother _ again....

“I don't care what anyone else out there thinks.” Clarke admitted, voice tired. “I just need you two- my mom and dad, to trust me. I’ve...spent so many years imagining this. Planning it out in my head. It was always my dream to have our people coexist. I’m not throwing that away because people are afraid of change.” 

Abby was staring deep into Clarke’s eyes, nodding slightly to indicate that she agreed. 

“I know we’re...a long way off from regaining that lost time. And...I want to tell you everything, eventually. But things are different on the ground. We aren’t the only ones here, and we need to act fast. Lexa can protect us. And she doesn’t  _ have _ to. She wants to.” 

“Why?” Abby asked carefully, and for once, Clarke didn’t blame her for asking so many questions. 

“Because she loves Clarke.” Jake stated the simple fact. 

Clarke nodded, ignoring the way her cheeks turned rosy. “But it can be a mutually beneficial arrangement. You become a clan, and there’s no way Lexa would let you suffer. You’d be able to build, expand, trade, establish borders, learn to hunt, to scout-” 

“It’s not that simple, Clarke.” Jake leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Some of us would rather not assimilate.” 

Clarke licked her lips. “You mean Pike, don’t you?” 

“And his slew of followers. His heroics out there with the hunting party aren’t exactly hurting his case, either. Day by day, he’s looking more and more like a leader-” 

“And undermining your authority, while you’re too busy in the med bay.” Clarke finished sagely. 

Abby nodded, clenching her fists. 

“So what’s the plan?” Jake queried. “We just let Lexa ride in and declare sovereignty? That’d end in bloodshed.” 

Clarke tsked. “No, we can’t do that. I...I need to talk to her. She has a mind for this sort of thing.” 

“She’s not here, is she?” Abby looked panicked. 

Clarke frowned. “No, she has duties in Polis. Why?” 

“How else will you talk to her?” 

“Don’t worry about it mom.” Clarke had enough of her secrets divulged for one evening. “I can set up a tent outside with-” 

“Clarke.” Abby cut her off. “There’s a spare room for you here. Down the hallway, door on the left hand side.” 

Clarke paused, unsure of what to say. 

She definitely didn’t want to mention that the idea of sleeping in the Ark gave her anxiety, after so many nights of freedom and sleeping under the stars. 

“Hey.” Jake took her silence as a sign of doubt. He put his hands on her shoulders, guiding her gaze. “We’re going to figure this out, Clarke. We’re Griffins. It’s what we do.” 

Clarke couldn’t help but smile at his reassurances. 

She’d forgotten what it was like, to have people to lean on, save for Lexa. 

While Abby was a tougher nut to crack, she did seem to be showing signs of acceptance. That was not to be mistaken as a lack of affection for Clarke, however, whom she still loved with all her heart. 

It would take time for Abby to adapt, to shed her old world mentalities and responsibilities and learn to play the game of survival on the ground. 

“Goodnight, Clarke.” She stepped forward, pressing a long, silent kiss to her daughter’s head. 

Closing her eyes, she imagined Clarke as a little baby in her arms, curled up against her, warm and safe. 

For too long in Clarke’s life, she failed to provide that safety. 

Not any longer. 

* * *

“This is Clarke to Lexa. Lexa come in, over.” 

A crackle. 

The clear fumbling of fingers against the buttons. 

A response. 

“Klark.” 

A single word. 

A single, beautiful, tired voice, re-energized by the sound of her love. 

Clarke took a careful glance around the tiny bedroom she’d been given, complete with “tin” walls (as Lexa would put it) and mostly devoid of color. 

She missed Lexa. 

She missed their room in the tower, colorful tapestries, candles, a few of Clarke’s works of art from when they had the time to spare. 

“Are you well? Are you safe?” Lexa’s hurried questions poured from the small radio, and Clarke couldn’t help but grin. Of course, Lexa didn’t use proper radio etiquette. 

“I’m fine. Things are fine, Lexa.” 

“Fine is  _ not _ an informative descriptor, Klark.” 

“We’re working on an arrangement. My parents and I. I think we can work something out.” Clarke moved to stretch on the bed, reaching out to wave a hand through the space Lexa would have occupied, had she been present. 

“They readily agreed?” Lexa asked dubiously. 

“They’re not going to survive, otherwise.” Clarke informed her. “They need help, Lexa.” 

“Had they not bit my hand extended in peace, they would have had it by now.” Lexa scoffed. 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I’m trying my best to help them see that. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re not here. For diplomatic purposes. My...friends…were the first ones to greet me. You would have ripped them to shreds, I think. It was...weird. For a moment...it all felt natural, and normal. I forgot we were embroiled in war, fighting to survive...I felt...young.” 

Lexa was silent on the other end. 

Clarke could almost hear her thinking. 

“If...you wish to stay…” Lexa began carefully, trying not to let her fear bleed through, “I...could arrange for-” 

“ _ Shof op.”  _ Clarke snorted, perhaps the only person on Earth who could manage to get away with saying that to the Commander. “I was  _ just _ about to say how much I missed you. And how much I miss...our home.” 

She could hear Lexa’s soft breathing as she formulated her response, always carefully crafting her words as if she were one of Polis’ street artisans, carefully weaving a tapestry with great effort and concentration. 

A sigh of relief escaped Lexa’s lips, and Clarke couldn’t help but smile. 

“I miss you very much, Klark.” Lexa murmured, voice small. 

Clarke could just imagine her. 

In her grand quarters, guards just outside the doors. Her pauldron and cape put away by her handmaidens. Her intricate braids undone and brushed out. 

She must have been ethereal. 

(To Clarke, she always was). 

“You know, being here...reminded me of a few things I want to show you.” Clarke began, trying to soothe herself with her thoughts. I...know that there isn’t a lot of time, now. But...maybe, when we broker peace here, and settle Azgeda...then maybe…” She trailed off, thinking she sounded foolish. Her wife was a Commander, a warlord, a general. She was responsible for the lives of thousands. She had no time for music, or any of the Ark’s fancy telescopes, or whatever else Clarke desired to show her. 

Lexa, however, responded with such conviction that Clarke was thrown off. 

“Klark.  _ Ai houmon. Ai niron. Sen ai op.”  _ Lexa pleaded in trigedasleng, the words so beautiful that they lulled Clarke into an absolute state of affection for the woman, who’d enchanted her more than she thought possible. “When I’ve done my duty as Heda- when I’ve ensured that my people are safe, that they are fed, when the bloodshed and the wars are brought to an end…” She trailed off, her words holding a spell over Clarke as she tried to envision it all. 

And with Lexa at the throne, she could. 

No one has such patience, such a vision, such ambition for success. 

It was a gargantuan task. It went against the very nature of humans, asking them to stay their blades, to refrain from doing what instinctually felt right. 

But Lexa knew that was no excuse. 

Lexa knew that would never lead to progress. 

And somehow, in all this mess, the duty of peace had fallen upon her shoulders. 

There was no one better suited for the task. 

“ _ Ai swega yu klin, Klark.  _ I will be yours, entirely. So much so that you’ll tire of me.” Lexa swore it like an oath, and Clarke couldn’t help but swoon. 

There truly wasn’t another soul like Lexa’s. 

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Clarke assured softly, closing her eyes, wanting nothing more than to dream of Lexa, if she couldn’t have her in that moment. 

“ _ Ai hod yu in, Klark.”  _

_ “Ai hod yu in seinteim, Leksa.”  _

She could hear the faint smile in Lexa’s tone, the one that was reserved for her and her only. 

“ _ Reshop, Heda.”  _

_ “Goodnight, ai houmon.”  _

* * *

It wasn’t the most comfortable sleep of Clarke’s life, certainly. 

She dreamt that she was back on the Ark, except it was still in orbit, and there was no way for her to return to Lexa. 

She was up before dawn, lacing her boots and pulling her cape overhead before setting out into the heart of the Ark’s makeshift camp, where fires were already going. 

She wasn’t surprised to find Abby outside by one of said fires, deliberating their next moves under the pitch black night sky, dappled with stars. 

She’d been talking to Marcus Kane. 

At first, Clarke wondered if approaching was the correct move, but she decided that she’d be of more use if she understood what was happening. 

“Clarke?” Abby rubbed her eyes, just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming it, before stepping aside by the fire for Clarke to join them. “You’re up early.” 

“Hunting parties are up before dawn.” Clarke explained. 

That caught Kane’s attention. “Hunting parties?” He repeated with fascination. 

Clarke had to give credit where credit was due. 

Of all the stubborn minded people on the Ark, Marcus Kane was the best of them. He seemed to genuinely be fascinated by the Grounder culture, and their efficiency. He also appeared to be open minded, constantly encouraging Abby to take whatever offer Lexa would give them.

He was good ambassador material, Clarke noted. 

“Were you a part of these hunting parties?” Kane questioned, rubbing the stubble at his chin. 

“Yes. Everyone is taught to hunt from a young age. It would be a death sentence not to.” Clarke explained. “And, as you can see by the injuries of the last hunting party- it’s not as easy as you might think.” 

“Certainly not.” Abby snorted. “You would think, though, with assault rifles, it might be a bit easier.” 

Clarke had to hide her smirk. “Sometimes brute force isn’t the answer. Especially when you only have one shot before your target either impales you or flees faster than you can follow.” 

Abby ran a hand through her hair, blowing out a breath of frustration. “Our second hunting party hasn’t returned yet.” She admitted lamely. 

“Pike’s?” Clarke questioned. 

Abby nodded. “Which would be a blessing, frankly, if we weren’t depending on them for food.” 

Kane’s face brightened. “...I have an idea.” He began. 

Abby and Clarke turned to face him, his face lit by the crackling of the fire, occasionally sending up orange embers between them. 

“You say that the people are hesitant to trust the Grounders, even Clarke to some degree, right?” Kane began. 

Abby nodded, Clarke’s eyes trained on the both of them. 

“So what if...we gave them...a  _ taste _ of Grounder rule?” Kane began. 

Before Clarke could protest, he held a hand up. 

“Before you say no- hear me out. Nothing too big, at first. Simple steps. For starters- you could take a hunting party out. You know these woods, and you know how to hunt in them. If you brought back food, and possibly even found and brought back Pike’s missing hunting party, it could do wonders. Firstly, it would boost morale, but more importantly- you’ll be earning their trust, Clarke. Words don’t do much, but a warm meal in an empty stomach? That’s proof.” 

Abby looked dubious. “I think it’s going to take a little more than rabbit stew to convince these people to hand themselves, and their weapons, over to a foreign nation.” 

Clarke looked thoughtful. “You’re right...but so is he. If we want to make progress, we have to show a few gestures of goodwill. Besides, with the way people are gawking at me here, I think I’ll do more harm than good by staying near the camp.” 

“This is excellent!” Kane beamed. “Do you...have any idea of who you might want to take with you? Our best candidates are injured, but-” 

“I work alone.” Clarke told him decisively, leaving no room for argument. “Anyone here would just slow me down.” 

Abby frowned disapprovingly. “Clarke. I’m not sending you out there alone. It’s not safe-” 

“Mom.” Clarke interrupted, a hand in the air, eerily like Lexa’s, when she would silence entire rooms with a flick of her wrist and a dismissive glare. “I’ve been alone for a  _ very  _ long time.” 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A reminder, this is canon divergent. It is obviously not in any way intended to be identical to canon, and that goes for the characters as well. *

The war room was brewing with tension, a space once reserved for ambassadors to have talks of peace, now serving as the headquarters for Lexa and her generals to plan their attacks against Azgeda. 

Skaikru was a distraction, yes, to some degree Anya’s opinion of them was accurate. 

Still, Lexa had an intimate knowledge of the power they possessed.

In the war against Queen Nia, foreign weaponry could be the great decider. Lexa knew she was standing at the cusp, the precipice, the edge of making her name irredeemable. 

Was there justification in using the  _ tek _ they had against their own kind? Yes, a different clan to be sure, but still Grounders nonetheless. 

And under Lexa’s coalition. 

Or, at least they were supposed to be. 

With so many factors to think about, Lexa could barely move forward with the logistics, the planning, the actual positioning of the troops. 

These were not tasks to be taken lightly. While Lexa ultimately did ask that her people risk their lives for her vision, she also knew not to carelessly toss her soldiers about.

Each of their lives was a pillar of her rule, a part of her plan for peace. 

The plan she shared with Clarke. 

_ Clarke _ . 

Lexa’s heart clenched underneath her ribs for the billionth time that day. 

Clarke’s absence had affected her far more than she’d thought it would. It wasn’t simply that Clarke was away- Lexa doubtlessly trusted her wife, who was more than equipped to care for herself. 

It was her  _ people, _ who’d fallen from the sky and already tried to pry her away from Lexa. 

Lexa was  _ sure  _ there was a trick involved in the letter Clarke received. She just had no way of knowing what they planned. 

And she couldn’t afford to spend her efforts worrying about Clarke. 

Not while there was a war to plan. 

“Heda.” Anya murmured, rubbing her chin as they stood over an expansive map of the territory between the clans, where Lexa aimed to deflect the fight. “What about-” 

“I know what you’re going to suggest, Anya. And I don’t want to make provocations.” Lexa emphasized. 

“They’ve tried to take your life.” Titus scoffed. “You cannot-” 

“I cannot make provocations because I cannot attack my own coalition, Titus. If I strike before them, that is exactly what will happen. Nia will prove me to be incapable of handling my own affairs. She will make me look weak. And that’s more dangerous than any and all the attacks they can manage.” 

Anya sat back in her seat, eyes glinting with a hint of pride for her second, who learned so well under her command. 

“Then what do you suggest?” A second general spoke up from the back, her hands folded on her lap, perhaps too coolly, for the tone she just took with Lexa. “We wait for negotiations from  _ splitas _ who could just as soon turn and massacre our people? And then what, Heda? Are you to tell me that our survival is contingent on your ability to  _ make peace _ with  _ obstacles  _ we could just as easily off, and take-” 

“ENOUGH.” Lexa snarled, teeth bared, looking absolutely furious as she slammed her fist down on the table. She breathed heavily, shoulders heaving as she did so. 

“You have no right-” Anya turned, but Lexa whipped her hand up, silencing Anya with a tiny nod. 

Lexa took another deep breath, calming herself, and then settled her lifeless green gaze on her victim, the outspoken general. 

“Do you know  _ why _ no one else has successfully made a coalition of the clans?” Lexa asked, her voice slow yet sharp, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. 

The only audible sounds besides Lexa’s voice were the flickering of the candles, and the rustle of the maps as everyone seemed to lean back in their seats, shocked by Lexa’s sudden display. 

The general averted her gaze, seemingly opting out of challenging Lexa, now. 

“Because none of you have any idea what comes tomorrow.” Lexa growled, her voice low. “You lack poise, logic, more than anything- vision. Had it been  _ you _ , in my seat, you’d have Trikru use its might to pillage, and destroy its way to luxury.” 

The general’s eyes darkened, slightly. 

Lexa leaned forward, eyes locked on her prey. 

“Yes, that’s right. And to an extent, your bloodthirstiness is rewarded. You will be at the top, for some time. And then, when you’ve grown comfortable, and weak, someone just as lawless and thoughtless as you will overcome you. And you will get  _ nowhere _ .” Lexa prodded with that word. “As a general, I’m sure you understand the concept of patience. I will not exercise it again, if you ever speak to me like that again.” Lexa’s voice was icy. 

When she leaned back, no one dared to challenge her gaze. 

Where she should have been satisfied with silencing the general, Lexa felt an unwelcome feeling creep into the pit of her stomach. 

Clarke needed to work fast. 

Their window of opportunity was closing. 

* * *

_ An arrow whistled through the air, sailing past Clarke’s head and into the carved tree behind her, hitting the target with deadly accuracy.  _

_ Clarke turned around, boots barely making any noise as she did so.  _

_ She couldn’t remember when she’d changed, from the clumsy, loud girl who fell from the Ark- to Lexa’s rival in stealth.  _

_ How quickly time had passed.  _

_ While she rarely ever had time for anything other than her duties, now, Lexa had managed to escape to meet Clarke for a friendly little hunt.  _

_ And oh, how beautiful she was.  _

_ Clarke took her in, all bright green eyes and a little smile. Her braids were regal as ever- Clarke knew her handmaidens did an immaculate job.  _

_ Still, she was breathtaking.  _

_ Standing before her was not Heda Leksa, but just Leksa kom Trikru. Just for a little while.  _

_ “You could’ve taken my eye out.” Clarke murmured, watching as Lexa approached, lowering her bow to her side.  _

_ “You should’ve heard me coming.” Lexa replied evenly.  _

_ “Maybe I did.”  _

_ “So you wanted to get hit, then.” Lexa mused.  _

_ “I knew you’d miss.” Clarke fired back.  _

_ Lexa rolled her eyes, stopping just short of Clarke.  _

_ “Heda graces me with her presence.” Clarke bowed, but it was incomplete and sloppy, more to mock her than anything else.  _

_ Lexa snorted. “That bow should be a capital offense.”  _

_ Clarke grinned and stepped forward, suddenly cupping Lexa’s cheeks, as she pulled her forward into a kiss, soft and sweet, and tender enough to make Lexa blush.  _

_ Clarke leaned back slightly, chuckling when Lexa’s lips chased hers, her eyes still closed blissfully.  _

_ Clarke of course, couldn’t deny her at all, and instead indulged her with another long kiss before finally breaking apart to watch the commander sway a little.  _

_ To everyone else, she was ruthless, cold-blooded. To Clarke, she was absolutely ethereal. _

_ Clarke sought to give her so much love that she could see herself the way Clarke did, even for a moment.  _

_ Lexa glanced around quickly, as if making sure they weren’t being watched.  _

_ Clarke followed her gaze and narrowed her eyes.  _

_ “Leksa.” Clarke mumbled.  _

_ Lexa frowned, when she noticed Clarke’s expression. “What is it?”  _

_ “You need to stop doing that.”  _

_ “Doing what?” Lexa defended.  _

_ “You’re searching for trouble. Waiting for the wrong person to see us, so they can go off and-”  _

_ “Klark.” The way Lexa said her name so delicately had Clarke swooning. “To be Heda is to be alone.”  _

_ “You’ve broken every other rule.” Clarke pointed out mildly. “And we wouldn’t have to sneak around. Plus, I don’t think it’s a secret from anyone who really knows-”  _

_ “I won’t put you in danger, Klark.” Lexa shook her head.  _

_ “You won’t.”  _

_ “There’ll be a price on your head.” Lexa murmured, unable to meet her gaze.  _

_ “Well, Commander.” Clarke tilted her chin up. “I suppose you have two choices, then.”  _

_ “And what are those?”  _

_ “You can either hide me away and we can continue to see each other once every moon-”  _

_ “It has not been that long-”  _

_ “It feels like it.”  _

_ Lexa went quiet at that. It did feel like forever since she’d last been in Clarke’s arms, the two spending the night away from Polis, a risky move altogether.  _

_ Especially when Lexa had a perfectly good tower, all under her command.  _

_ If she made it so, no one could say anything about Clarke. They could be together freely.  _

_ That wouldn’t come without its fair share of hardship, to be sure, but Clarke wanted everything about Lexa. Her vision, her hardship, her pain were all just parts of her.  _

_ “What…” Lexa’s breathing became ragged as Clarke came closer. “What is my second option?”  _

_ “Love me, honestly, and openly. In front of everyone. We face danger either way, but at least this way, we’re-”  _

“Together.” Clarke murmured, rubbing the tattoo that ran along her arm, hidden under her clothes. She’d been camped out in a nearby tree for nearly an hour, still, void of any movement that could scare away her potential prey. 

Everything about hunting seemed to calm Clarke. 

It wasn’t a mad chase for survival, like her people probably saw it to be. 

It was an art, a skill, bartering with nature. If one could speak the language- the position of the sun, the wind, the trees- Earth was bountiful in its rewards. 

Lexa had taught her that. 

Like so many things, the hunt reminded Clarke of Lexa. 

She saw Lexa in the way the leaves on the branches swayed in the wind, or the elegance with which the birds would flit down from their soaring trips across the skies. 

Lexa had become a part of her so quickly. 

It reminded Clarke of the early days they’d spend together, chasing each other through the trees, the closest they could achieve to freedom, given Lexa’s responsibilities. 

And while others shied away from the idea, Clarke never once faltered. She never even dreamt of running off with Lexa. 

She understood who Lexa was. 

Above all, Lexa was revolutionary. She was bold, brilliant, and her ideals of peace and diplomacy saved so many lives already. 

Clarke fell in love with her passion, her loyalty. 

Despite their harsh ways, despite all that Lexa’s people had subjected her to: being torn away from home, from her mother, being forced to train all her life, the conclave, the blood on her hands, the wars, the violence, the deaths, the responsibilities. 

It was enough to break someone. 

But Clarke knew Lexa’s potential. 

Lexa needed someone who believed in her without fail. Someone at her side, to reassure her, to help her execute a feat that many considered impossible. 

Clarke wanted nothing more than to be that for her. 

And so, their love was forged, amongst the trees, between the rivers, day in and day out. Hunting beside Lexa, training beside her, eventually fighting beside her. 

So much came back to Clarke in her moment of solace, away from both Polis, and the Ark, with just her bow and blade. 

She’d refused the guns offered to her. 

If she could show her people that they didn’t need to rely on their tech, it would certainly help their cause. 

Besides. 

Eventually, bullets ran out. 

Clarke knew, her people would feel as if their backs were to the wall, without bringing their technology with them. 

She’d have to devise a careful plan to ease them out of that. 

Despite what Clarke had thought about her people possibly exaggerating Pike’s prowess as a hunter, Clarke had to admit: She thought she’d certainly find him by now. 

Not that she was scouring the nearby woods for him, per se, but she if could hear the light crackle of leaves, crushed under a stag’s hooves, then she wagered she could probably hear him lumbering about. 

Clarke leaned back against the trunk of the tree that suspended her up in the air. 

Like a panther, waiting for its kill. 

_ “Of all the things I hate….climbing? Seriously?” Clarke gaped up at the tree, it’s branches extending to cover a wide span of the wooded area around them.  _

_ She turned her gaze to the Commander, eyes narrowing. ‘ _

_ “You can climb. I’ve seen it.” Lexa sniffed, as if it were no big deal.  _

_ “Yeah, with foot holds, Lexa. On rocks. With ropes.”  _

_ “This is no different.” Lexa promised, looking entirely too young and carefree, in that moment, to be the Commander.  _

_ “And what would your warriors think? Seeing heda in a tree?” Clarke tried.  _

_ “They would think me a very fast and agile climber.”  _

_ Clarke rolled her eyes, ignoring the way a smile tugged its way onto the corner of Lexa’s lips, eyes twinkling with amusement.  _

_ “Lexa, why this tree?”  _

_ Lexa snorted. “Why did I ever let myself believe that you would, just once, come without questions?”  _

_ “As appealing as this is…” Clarke made to leave, and Lexa grabbed her wrist, gently holding her in place.  _

_ “I...like your questions.” Lexa admitted softly, pulling Clarke to her. “I like how infuriating you are.”  _

_ Clarke smirked. “Me?”  _

_ “Yes.” Lexa mumbled, lips against Clarke’s. “So stubborn.”  _

_ “You’re arrogant.” Clarke fired back, pinning Lexa back up to the tree.  _

_ Once again, a movement that could’ve ended with her hand detached from her body.  _

_ If she wasn’t the love of Lexa’s life, of course.  _

_ Lexa only smiled against her kiss, entirely too pleased with the change of events.  _

_ They kissed for a moment, completely lost to their surroundings.  _

_ “Klark.” Lexa mumbled against her lips, bringing her to reality.  _

_ “Hmm.” Clarke’s hum was her only response.  _

_ “Do you trust me?” Lexa asked, and it terrified Clarke. It terrified her, because she trusted Lexa with every fibre of her being. With her life. With her heart.  _

_ Clarke nodded, eyes burning through Lexa’s gaze.  _

_ “Good. Now…” Lexa’s hands slid to her hips, squeezing enough to make Clarke jump, though not at all from discomfort. “Let me show you how it’s done.”  _

Clarke took a moment to close her eyes, trying to fully remember Lexa. 

Yes, she’d seen her just a day prior, but such was the nature of their bond. 

Little by little, Lexa had become her entire life on the ground. She’d offered Clarke guidance, friendship, a home. (Though Clarke would argue that she earned those things). 

Clarke couldn’t help but notice the slightly upset feeling in her stomach, that had only worsened since she’d left Polis. 

She was homesick, and her home was Lexa. 

And it was now, in the middle of her hunt, with no sky people ranting nonsense in one ear, and no Grounders to accuse her in the other, that she realized how much of her life was centered around the Commander. 

_ “Klark. Look at me.” Lexa leaned over the thicker branch, to where Clarke was struggling to maintain her balance, almost as high as Lexa was.  _

_ Clarke was breathing hard, beads of sweat gathering at her brow as she tried hard to maintain her grip.  _

_ The fall would surely break a bone or a few dozen, and frankly, Clarke didn’t have too much faith in the Grounder recovery process of “rub dirt on it and move on”.  _

_ “You need to let go.” Lexa guided her. “I’ll lift you.”  _

_ Clarke’s eyes went wide. “Are you kidding me? I’ll drag you down!”  _

_ Lexa looked unfazed, reaching out for Clarke. “Take my hand, and push off with your left foot, ai niron.”  _

_ The last words made Clarke’s heart stutter, and her resolve disappear, and she was a slave to Lexa’s whim.  _

_ She reached out, and sure enough, she was hoisted to comfortably sit atop the thick branch Lexa was on. Clarke sighed and leaned back against the trunk, taking great heaving breaths.  _

_ Lexa was amused. Clarke rested a hand on her thigh, shaking her head.  _

_ “Last time I take advice from you.”  _

_ “You’re here and safe, are you not?”  _

_ “Barely.” Clarke grumped.  _

_ Lexa took her in for a moment, a fond look in her eyes for the sky girl, who climbed trees with all the grace of an ox. The sky girl who didn’t care about authority when it came to being heard. The sky girl who was stubborn as could be, who frequently liked to challenge Lexa, to mentally spar with her. The sky girl who didn’t speak like the rest of them- with an accent more beautiful than anything Lexa had ever heard in Trigedasleng. The sky girl who got in trouble with just about everyone for something or another, but the cause was always righteous, with Clarke.  _

_ Yes, her sky girl.  _

_ Her love.  _

_ Clarke squeezed her thigh, and Lexa glanced up at her, cheeks tinted with a rosy hue.  _

_ “What are you thinking about?” Clarke asked, husky voice pleasing to Lexa’s ears.  _

_ “We need to stand.” Lexa spoke up, and Clarke blinked.  _

_ “Huh?”  _

_ “We need to stand.” Lexa pointed to the canopy of leaves above them. _

_ “What on Earth for?” Clarke demanded, seeming to grip the bark of the tree just a little tighter.  _

_ Lexa was up like lightning, already extending a hand to Clarke as she steadied herself with the other.  _

_ “Trust that I won’t let harm come to you, Klark.”  _

_ Clarke rolled her eyes, taking Lexa’s hand. “You better not.” She mumbled.  _

_ Lexa grinned and pulled her up, past the canopy of leaves.  _

_ It was then that Clarke realized why this was Lexa’s secret spot, and why no one else knew about it.  _

_ It was truly the most beautiful sight Clarke had seen in ages. To the east, mist cloaked and rolled over the tops of mountains, eerie and enchanting all at once. To the west, rays of golden sun illuminated the seemingly faraway city of Polis, Lexa’s tower standing defiantly amongst the city walls.  _

_ The river they crossed was fully visible, stretching across the great expanse of land, and winding so far that it eventually turned out of sight.  _

_ Clarke was breathless, gripping Lexa tightly as she took it all in.  _

_ “What...do you think?” Lexa asked, almost timidly, her voice but a whisper.  _

_ “It’s incredible.” Clarke breathed, eyes taking in the majesty of the scene laid out before her.  _

_ “It is...something.” Lexa agreed quietly.  _

_ Clarke turned to her, eyes alight with wonder. “This is your kingdom.” She spoke as if she were in awe. “This is...a fraction of it.” She turned to Lexa, eyes widening with realization. “My god.” She whispered, leaning forward to caress Lexa’s cheek.  _

_ She didn’t see Heda, the steely-eyed Commander, who bowed for no one, who killed without hesitation.  _

_ She saw Leksa.  _

_ Her Leksa.  _

_ Leksa kom trikru. No more than twenty.  _

_ Just a girl, with the responsibility of the world thrust upon her.  _

_ Clarke was sure of two things, in that moment.  _

_ The first: She loved Lexa more than anyone and anything else in her life.  _

_ The second: She would do anything to ensure that this cruel world would not crush the beauty of Lexa’s soul- and if that meant enduring neverending criticism and threats, just to stay by Lexa’s side, then so be it.  _

_ Clarke reached for her blade, pulling it out with a satisfied look.  _

_ Lexa quirked a brow, but said nothing, as she and Clarke both lowered themselves back to sitting positions on the branch. Clarke turned to face the trunk, pressing the tip of the steel into the tree bark.  _

_ Lexa’s eyes widened.  _

_ Usually, trees were only marked for a purpose, though Lexa couldn’t think of a purpose for a target so high up, obstructed from view.  _

_ Still, Clarke worked diligently, and Lexa found herself coming to press up against Clarke, chin resting on Clarke’s shoulder as she watched her work.  _

_ Clarke continued, until she finished a symbol, one that Clarke had previously explained- was a heart. A symbol of love. (Unlike the organ that looked...nothing like the symbol). Clarke explained that, too.  _

_ Then, in Gonasleng, Clarke carved out the letters “C” and “L” and put a cross between them.  _

_ Lexa frowned, staring at the cross.  _

_ “It’s not a cross. It’s an addition sign.” Clarke scoffed, already following Lexa’s train of thought.  _

_ “It seems inefficient to blend written language with hieroglyphs.”  _

_ Clarke snorted. “This is...an ancient tradition of my people.”  _

_ Lexa nodded slowly, as if she were a scholar, studying every last bit of Clarke’s handiwork.  _

_ “Do you know what it means?” Clarke asked, turning to run a hand through Lexa’s hair, just because she could.  _

_ Lexa smiled, and Clarke could tell, she had the right idea.  _

_ “It would appear to be a declaration of love.”  _

_ “Close enough.” Clarke tilted Lexa’s chin down slightly so she could meet her for a kiss. _

_ “This is a strange tradition.” Lexa mumbled curiously, and Clarke enjoyed the way she gave in, leaning on Clarke comfortably. “Who practiced this?”  _

_ “Horny teenagers, mostly.”  _

_ “...Horny?” Lexa’s eyes widened. “There were mutations then, too?” _

_ Clarke couldn’t help it. She launched into a laugh, clutching her side as she took in Lexa’s bewildered face.  _

_ “No-” Clarke wiped her eyes, barely breathing. “Lexa. It- they didn’t have horns. And no, there weren’t mutations caused by radiation that made people grow horns.”  _

_ “Then why are they horny?” Lexa demanded, intent on understanding this topic that seemed to have delighted Clarke so much.  _

_ “Horny doesn’t mean what you think it means. If someone is horny...it means they want sex.”  _

_ “Sex?” Lexa repeated, dumbfounded.  _

_ “Yeah. Like..to…” Clarke switched to Trigedasleng quite quickly, to her credit. “Ses op.”  _

_ It was very easy to see that Lexa had now completely lost her train of thought, and was now just remembering every single dirty thing she and Clarke had ever done to each other.  _

_ “They declare this on trees?” Lexa asked absently.  _

_ “...Well, not exactly.” Clarke laughed. “It’s just a symbol of our love.”  _

_ “Then I like it very much.” Lexa decided, breathing heavily as Clarke kissed the corner of her mouth, savoring the little sound she made upon release.  _

_ Clarke chuckled, a husky, throaty sound. She leaned forward, tucking a lock of hair behind Lexa’s ear.  _

_ “What other traditions have you kept from telling me about?” Lexa asked playfully,  _

_ Clarke grinned, leaning forward to kiss at the tender skin of Lexa’s neck, occasionally sucking on a spot between her lips, teasing Lexa with that alone.  _

_ “There are a few more.”  _

_ Lexa’s eyes twinkled mischievously, and Clarke smirked.  _

_ “Do you want me to show you?”  _

_ “Jok.” Lexa whispered, lip quivering in anticipation of Clarke’s kiss. “Yes.”  _

_ “Too bad we’re in a tree.” Clarke leaned back, withdrawing all contact from Lexa, making her suddenly freeze. _

_ Clarke laughed out, and Lexa gave her a begrudging smile, as they linked hands, unable to stay apart for too long.  _

Clarke’s fingers ran over the bark of the tree, over the carved C + L and the heart that wound its way around it. 

These woods were good to her. 

Glancing down, she heard a rustling in the nearby thicket. 

Eyes narrowing, she took a deep breath, relaxing herself for just a moment. 

She reached for her blade, poised to leap off the branch, to kill whatever it was that lingered just out of reach, unsuspecting. 

* * *

Clarke’s return was marked by a bountiful supply of food. 

Setting traps, hiding in trees, stalking creatures for miles amongst the trees- it had all finally paid off. 

For Trikru, it would’ve been a paltry haul, barely indicative of Clarke’s true capabilities. 

The Stag, however, was more of a trophy. 

A “fuck you” to Pike, Bellamy, and whoever else decided that their brute force would be enough to survive. 

Clarke, however, knew better than to kill for pure sport. 

These people- Clarke wouldn’t refer to them as her own; they would simply ravage the land, given the chance. 

It was Trikru’s sustainable agricultural methods that led to the clan’s success, and that extended into everything they did. 

From a young age, children were taught to respect the hunt- to recognize themselves as part of an ecosystem far greater than themselves. They were taught never to antagonize prey- never to allow prolonged suffering. 

Clarke came to understand that these were essential pillars in the foundation of their success. Prior to her own people landing, she had thought of it as something like common sense. It was so natural, so intuitive to believe, that she had trouble imagining anyone being able to deny it. 

But her “people” (And she was using the term loosely) spat in the very face of it all. 

She didn’t think it was possible to feel such a strong sense of bias in favor of the people she didn’t even originally come from. The people who took a long time to except her, making her face trial after trial. 

But here she was. 

“Clarke.” Abby’s eyes were wide as she came face to face with Clarke, who’d just relinquished her horse, and the kill, to the guards at the front gate. 

Blood stained some of Clarke’s clothes, flecks of it dotting her wrists and arms, her cheeks, her forehead. 

“I’m fine.” Clarke reassured. “It’s not mine.” 

“You were gone for a day.” Abby’s eyes were locked onto the stag, now being hauled off by a group of guards, proving too heavy to lift. “How did you manage to-” 

“A  _ lot  _ of practice.” Clarke replied curtly, trying not to think of Anya’s words to her, when she’d first arrived. 

_ Hunt and come back with your food, and if you can’t, starve.  _

This was the result: a finely tuned, precise hunter. 

“That’s enough to feed everyone here.” Abby pressed. 

Clarke shook her head. “Not after degutting. And skinning.” 

“Skinning?” Abby whispered, looking rightfully disgusted. 

“What else are you going to wear? And use as leather?” Clarke fired off the same questions Lexa had demanded her to answer, when she stood over her first killed deer, repulsed by the sight. 

Then, she’d thought it was cruelty. 

Now, she understood. This was simply survival, and her mother knew nothing of what it took, just to stay alive. 

“You’re good with your hands.” Clarke reminded her gently. “You’ll make it work.” 

Abby watched as her daughter gave her a sympathetic glance before stepping past her, likely making her way to her quarters. 

From all over the site, everyone stared as Clarke brought in more food than they could have hoped for. 

She had a powerful, undeniable authority to her walk. 

Their eyes followed her every movement as she disappeared into the remains of the Ark, missing the one person she wasn’t able to see. 

* * *

The crackle of the radio in Lexa’s hand drew the Commander’s attention to the device, and her eyes lit up, in the safety of her quarters. 

She allowed herself to feel excitement at the prospect of talking to her wife. 

“Lexa? Come in. Over.” 

Lexa pressed the button on the side, unable to keep her heart from skipping a beat when she heard Clarke’s voice, artificial sounding but uncanny still, fill her room. 

Shadows danced across the wall, created by Lexa’s movement and the flickering of candles, and it was almost as if Clarke were with her. 

“Klark.” One word, and Lexa’s true emotions were revealed to her.

“You sound exhausted.” Clarke murmured, and Lexa sighed. 

“Another incident with the generals. They aren’t fond of my complacency...over.” Lexa attempted the correct etiquette, which earned a faint smile on Clarke’s face that she couldn’t see. 

“Since when is refusing to slaughter people seen as complacent?” Clarke snorted. “I assume you put them in their place? Over.” 

Lexa hummed thoughtfully before pressing the button. “They refuse to see it that way.” 

A silence came over them for a moment, and then Lexa decided to break it, realizing what she’d heard. 

“You sound exhausted,  _ ai niron _ .” She noted softly. “...Over.” 

“I went on a day long hunt.” Clarke explained, fingers grasping at the linens where Lexa’s body would’ve been, if they’d been face to face, like she craved. “I figured if we could gather enough food to raise morale, we could help show them that joining us is the right decision-” 

“You went hunting alone?” Lexa forgot all etiquette, and promptly cut off Clarke’s speech, only to realize that Clarke wouldn’t hear it. 

“-and we might have a chance.” Clarke was evidently finishing whatever she was saying. “Over.” 

Lexa sighed. 

Damn  _ skaikru  _ with their  _ tek _ , and their beautiful, ridiculously headstrong women. 

“What did you catch? Over.” Lexa figured that there was no point in trying to backtrack on these curious devices. 

“Mostly rabbits. And a stag. Over.”

Lexa’s response was exactly what Clarke was expecting. 

“Oh? You hunted a stag alone? I didn’t realize we were ignoring basic precautions set forth to avoid  _ death _ , Klark. Over.” 

Clarke snorted, unable to keep from grinning. She missed Lexa so much. The pout of her lips, the soft lilt of her voice. Her inability to keep from making clever retorts to everything that came out of Clarke’s mouth. 

“I’m alive. And the stag is dead. Besides, I needed to make a grand gesture to win these people over, Lexa. They’re starving….over.” 

Lexa’s brows furrowed, and a white hot flash of anger coursed through her. They would have Clarke’s life on the line, and for what? 

“You do not need to prove yourself to those who refuse to believe in you.” Lexa began passionately. 

When the line sounded, Clarke realized she released the button, and was likely too angered to remember. 

“Lexa...that’s what I’ve been doing all my life.” The words were sad, and they painfully struck at Lexa’s heart. “That’s  _ exactly _ what we need to do. You as Commander, especially. It’s a burden we don’t want, but...if we stop trying, people die. And that’s a far worse burden to live with….over.” 

Lexa was silent, eyes misty as she blinked away any evidence of her emotions, trying to keep her voice level, for Clarke. 

She was right. 

They didn’t ask for the weight of the responsibilities on their shoulders.

And running away would never be an option. It simply wasn’t who they were.

But there was a beautiful silver lining to it all, one that made enduring all of it so effortless: they had each other. 

Together in pain, in suffering, and eventually, in their success. 

Lexa vowed to bring Clarke that day. 

Freedom brought about by escape was never an option, but freedom earned through their trials? 

That was what fueled the fire within Lexa, burning at its brightest when everything around them seemed dim. 

Just talking to Clarke, hearing her voice, rekindled that fire, that need to survive, to do more, to create a world where she and Clarke could finally be free. 

“I miss you.” Clarke’s voice crackled through the speaker. She sounded heavy, as if it were a burden to be without Lexa, (and it was). “ _ Ai hod yu in, Leksa _ .” 

Lexa’s heart fluttered at hearing the words, albeit not in person. 

She missed Clarke more than words could describe. She couldn’t rest easy until Clarke was back in Polis, bundled up with her under the furs, safe from the rest of the world. 

“I love you more,  _ Klark. _ ” 

* * *

Clarke couldn’t sleep. 

The sounds outside the Ark were far too great and numerous, and Clarke realized that it was the sound of a starving population being fed.

She should have realized that they wouldn’t be able to wait. 

Well, so much for the proper gutting and skinning of those animals. 

One lesson at a time, she supposed. 

A knock at her door interrupted Clarke’s musings. 

Rising slowly, Clarke tensed a little, reaching for her dagger as she made to open it. 

Immediately, upon seeing Abby and Jake, Clarke relaxed, allowing them in as the door shut behind them, locking once more. 

“Clarke, why aren’t you out there, eating?” Abby frowned. 

Clarke felt an immediate sense of discomfort, ruining the calm that had settled over her from Lexa’s voice.

“She’s exhausted, Abby. She was gone from dawn to dusk.” Jake defended, awe in his gaze. “That’s fantastic, Clarke. How did you learn to do that? As your father, I want to reprimand you for taking on an incredibly dangerous animal, but as a bystander...that’s  _ impressive _ .” 

Clarke couldn’t help but grin, and Abby watched the interaction with a stab of hurt. 

Jake always did know the quickest way to Clarke’s heart. 

Jake, however, wasn’t chancellor, and also wasn’t head doctor, (the only one on Earth, possibly), so that truly wasn’t a fair comparison.

“So, what now?” Clarke huffed, leaning back against the bed. 

“Now?”Abby rubbed her chin. “Now we work on assimilation. Getting them used to the idea that... _ this _ could be every night, if they’re willing to lay down their arms.” 

Clarke rubbed her temples. “I can’t believe we’re bribing them.” 

“As opposed to?” Abby sniffed. 

Clarke ignored that, refusing to take the bait. The last thing she needed was to ruin the small but steady trust she’d built with her mother today. 

“Pike returned, two men injured, a meager amount of food. He’s furious. He’s seen what you did.” Jake informed her, jaw setting, becoming the protective father Clarke remembered. 

“Good.” Clarke nodded. “I want them to see that he’s inferior, here.” 

“It’s the guards you’ll want to convince. Pike has them under his thumb.” Abby gritted in annoyance. 

“And you don’t?” Clarke scoffed. “You’re the chancellor. And you still haven’t told me how that happened, by the way.” 

“When have I had the time?” Abby countered. 

Jake sighed. “The people are scared, Clarke. They’re more susceptible to...radicalism.” 

“People believe in him, in what he’s saying.” Abby added. “That we can overpower Lexa’s people with what he have now, that we could save years of work by establishing ourselves in the capital...if it exists, and it’s not some lie.” 

Clarke bristled. “Of  _ course  _ it exists, and if any of these idiots could survive for two minutes instead of pathetically wailing for help and then spitting in the face of it when it does arrive!” 

Abby and Jake froze, stunned by Clarke’s sudden outburst. 

Clarke’s chest was heaving, she was shaking her head as she paced about the small space of the room. 

She’d done more than just insulted their people. 

She’d separated herself from them, verbally confirming their fears, their suspicions that Clarke was no longer their own. 

Clarke didn’t have time for this. 

“So he’s gaining followers? Like Bellamy?” She pressed. “And the guards?” 

“Yes.” Abby sighed. “It looks that way, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it if he keeps injuring his men on his unsuccessful hunting trips.” 

Clarke’s eyes widened. “You’re right.” She murmured. “He’s been keeping you very busy.” 

“You don’t think-” Jake began. 

“That he’s planning something?” Clarke finished. “Absolutely. We should be out there right now, keeping a close eye on him! Mom, do you have people you can trust?” 

Abby blinked. “What? I-” 

“People you can trust, mom. Like, your generals. People you  _ know  _ won’t betray you.” 

Abby looked pale. 

“No one?” Clarke whispered. 

Truly, her mother’s leadership was a fragile one. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Clarke dismissed it, waving her hand in a fashion eerily similar to that of Lexa’s in her public meetings. “I know what we can do, and here’s what it’s going to take-” 

Screams from outside suddenly filled the air, and the sound of rapid footsteps echoed outside in the hallways. 

Clarke’s eyes widened as she reached for her blade, leaving Abby and Jake to trail after her in shock. 

Perhaps it was too late.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *There are brief mentions of torture in this chapter*

As soon as the noise erupted, Clarke’s training seemed to kick in. 

Reaching for her weapons, she exchanged a look of fear with Abby, who quickly reached behind her into the drawer. She rifled through some clothes for a moment before pulling out two hand guns. 

Clarke’s brows lifted in surprise. “Were you expecting a revolt?” 

Abby didn’t dignify the question with an answer, simply pressing one into Clarke’s hands, and then taking the other for herself. 

“You should stay behind.” Clarke warned them, shoulders tense with adrenaline. 

Abby and Jake both exchanged glances, as if to say “ _are you kidding me?_ ”, and Clarke realized convincing them to stay would merely be an exercise in futility. 

Clarke shook her head. “Fine, then at least try to stay behind me.” 

The sounds of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Clarke whipped around, gun pointed squarely at the doorway. 

Abby’s brow furrowed as she followed suit, tensing as she released the safety on her gun. 

The steps continued on, faster and faster. 

“They’re coming here.” Clarke whispered. 

“They could be friendly.” Jake reminded, his voice barely above a whisper. 

The steps came faster, and faster. 

The metal walls of the Ark carried the sound with endless echoes, only adding to the difficulty of pinpointing just where the steps were coming from. 

Closer, and closer. 

A figure appeared in the doorway, and Clarke was a millisecond away from pulling the trigger. 

She hadn’t known what to expect. 

Azgeda forces that discovered the fallen Ark, and intended to prey upon her people? Bandits, or a feral mutated beast that had found its way to the Ark? 

Or Pike himself, with the people of the Ark at his back, coming to depose her mother? 

None of the above, it seemed. 

Only Bellamy Blake, his hands up harmlessly, looking quite relieved to have found them. 

“Oh, thank god.” Abby lowered her gun and clicked the safety on. 

“Chancellor.” Bellamy greeted, staring nervously at Clarke’s gun. “You need to come quickly, one of our generators exploded outside and we have people down.”

Clarke lowered her gun, shoulders visibly dropping at the news. 

“Oh my god.” Abby’s relief was gone in an instant. She turned to Jake, handing him the gun as she rushed to get her equipment. “Where?” 

“North side, near the gate!” 

“Who’s down?” Abby asked, in full doctor mode, asking questions at a rapid speed. 

Bellamy paused. “I...I don’t know. It was hard to tell.” He swallowed audibly. 

Abby lifted a brow, glancing at him quizzically. “You don’t know?” 

“I think it was Miller.” Bellamy admitted hurriedly. “But I don’t know.” 

Abby nodded and took off without another word, pushing past Bellamy and out of Clarke’s sight.

“We can use all the help we can get…” Bellamy offered pointedly at Jake and Clarke, who seemed to be frozen in place. 

Jake nodded slowly, putting his hand on Clarke’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze, as if to warn her. 

“Right.” Jake offered, as Bellamy began to leave the room. “Which ah...which generator did you say it was?” 

Bellamy’s gaze shifted to Clarke. “The north one. By the fence.” He repeated, pausing in the hallway. 

Jake froze. “You know…” He began, slowly stepping in front of Clarke. “I helped Reyes and Wick put them up. And I don’t remember a generator on that side of camp.” 

Bellamy’s expression fell. “I’m sorry about this.” 

Jake tensed, as Clarke did, the two looking ready as Clarke reached for her gun, but it was too late. 

From behind, Clarke felt something press into her back, and suddenly her body began convulsing. 

For all her training with Lexa, the years spent becoming hardened by Earth and its challenges, she couldn’t resist the force of a charged shock baton, and neither could Jake. 

If coherent thoughts were even possible in her crumpled state, convulsing on the ground like a fish flopping around helplessly after being thrown out of the water, she would have thought of Lexa. 

How disappointed she’d be, in Clarke’s people, in Clarke herself, for being so naive, so careless as to not check behind her. 

If she survived this, Lexa was going to kill her. 

* * *

Lexa couldn’t focus on any of her duties as Commander. 

She couldn’t preside over the bustling war room, or endure endless political schemes in the throne room. 

She couldn’t really breathe. 

Clarke hadn’t responded to her in twenty-four hours. 

An entire day and night where she’d received no message, no word from her wife. 

Her wife, buried deep behind enemy lines. 

Her wife, staying in an unfamiliar place with people Lexa knew she couldn’t trust. 

It had taken every last ounce of her willpower not to call an army together. 

She’d have a hard time justifying that to her ambassadors, the dry bastards that they were. 

But it was becoming increasingly worrisome. Every second spent away from Clarke was a moment Clarke could have been injured, in pain, suffering- 

“Heda.” A knock at her chamber doors had her bristling again. 

The _only_ news she had any interest in was pertaining to Clarke’s return. Everything else was secondary. 

“What, Titus?” Her bark was fierce, enough to send the guards outside her door to the side, just a bit. 

“The ambassadors-” 

“Can wait.” Lexa finished his sentence for him, not in the least interested in what the ambassadors wanted. 

“But Heda-” 

“Leave, Titus. And do not disturb me again, unless Polis itself is under siege.” 

A moment of silence washed over them, and Lexa fumed on the other side of the heavy doors, safely away from the prying eyes of her advisor. 

“...Heda-” 

That was it. 

Lexa threw the heavy doors open herself, startling the life out of Titus and the guards that stood behind it. With a savage jerk of her hand, she yanked Titus forward by the the collar of his robe, stopping face to face with him. 

He swallowed audibly, otherwise giving no indication of his fear, impossible to see in his dark eyes. 

“Am I to understand that my advisor is too stupid to follow basic commands? Or are you _choosing_ to disobey orders I _just_ issued?” 

Titus didn’t answer, hanging his head in a show of subordinance. 

He often crossed lines with Lexa, in small and subtle ways, hoping they would go unnoticed, the Commander often too busy to even properly rest, most of the time. 

Of course, he was a fool to underestimate Lexa, who’d noticed it every time, with a growing suspicion of the advisor she’d known for so long. 

She’d have to remember to have Anya keeping an eye on him now, more than ever, especially since relations with Azgeda were completely terminated.

She released him with something of a tired look, shaking her head. “Ready my horse.” 

Titus looked as if he wanted to argue, but his mouth remained clamped firmly shut. 

He knew better than to provoke an already raging bull. 

“At once, Heda.” Titus offered up instead, and Lexa turned away, shutting the door behind her without another word. 

* * *

It was funny. 

Lexa had grown so accustomed to Clarke, to her companionship, to her quick wit and sharp tongue. 

She would always roll her eyes whenever they were bickering, the sky girl more stubborn than Lexa could have ever imagined. 

Sometimes she’d wonder why Clarke was so stubborn- why she felt the need to always have her voice heard, even at the expense of the civility of their conversation. 

But that was what she loved most about her, too. 

Clarke never had an issue making her voice heard, and Lexa never knew how much she took it for granted until she had no way of hearing Clarke at all. 

Simply put, her soul ached for her love. 

She didn’t believe she could ever trust the people Clarke once called family. 

She knew how much it would break Clarke’s heart to hear her say such a thing, but as she was slowly learning, it was the truth. 

These people were lawless, dangerous. 

They posed a threat to her people, their way of life, the resources they used to survive. 

She could hear the spirits of the past Commanders, plaguing her dreams, disrupting her sleep. (Of course, she’d never tell Clarke this; she knew how much she worried). 

Up until just recently, it felt like a clock was ticking in her mind, a pendulum swinging back and forth, ticking off the seconds, minutes, hours, and days until something truly _terrible_ was going to happen. 

With these added intruders, and the looming threat of Azgeda, Lexa’s mind was almost constantly spinning. 

There were lives at stake. 

Children, families, entire farms and villages all helplessly sitting in between the path from Polis to Arris, the capital of Azgeda, and the seat of the ice queen herself. 

And yet, she hadn’t drawn her sword, hadn’t ordered a single move against the sky people. 

All because Clarke asked her not to. 

The life of a Commander was a lonely one, and Lexa was learning _why_. Her loyalties were fully divided, she had two vicious enemies that threatened her people’s existence, and she didn’t even know if her wife was alive. 

A knock at her door had Lexa all but yelling at the top of her lungs, burying her face in her hands for a moment to gather herself. 

She was going to behead whoever was on the other side of the door. 

She threw the door open once more, about to step right into her visitor’s face, stopping a few feet away and blinking when she realized it wasn’t Titus, but Costia. 

Costia looked apologetic, but remained in her stance, refusing to back away. 

“Heda.” She greeted formally, dipping her head to Lexa, especially cordial in the presence of the guards outside Lexa’s door. 

“I…” Lexa opened her mouth, and then realized she didn’t know what to say. 

Frankly, Costia had been the last person on her mind. 

Costia seemed to understand this, gesturing into Lexa’s bedchambers. 

“Come in.” Lexa exhaled and Costia entered, the doors closing behind her. 

“How are you doing?” Costia immediately dropped the act, now that the guards were out of earshot. 

Lexa’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” 

“You’ve halted meetings. In wartime.” Costia pointed out wryly. “Is Clarke okay?” 

Lexa’s brain was restless, and she found herself slow to formulate replies. 

“...I don’t know.” She admitted, allowing just a sliver of her nerves to show. “And I can’t very well leave my seat to investigate.” 

Costia looked sympathetic. As one of Lexa’s trusted advisors, she had eyes and ears around Polis, and it wasn’t difficult to guess that she’d know something was wrong with Commander. 

“You could send Anya?” Costia mused. “There’s no one more trustworthy…” 

“Clarke’s people are dangerous.” Lexa tsked. “And armed. I wouldn’t send my own people to get slaughtered.” 

Costia tilted her head in admiration of her friend’s leadership. 

Lexa had given all she possibly could to her people. 

“You can’t go alone.” Costia reasoned. 

Lexa clenched her fists in frustration. “I _can_ -” 

“Since when has the Commander left this room without a detail?” Costia argued. “For all we know, this could be the work of Azgeda, luring you into their clutches.” 

Lexa snorted. “Nia hasn’t the foresight to orchestrate something like this.” 

Costia looked doubtful. “I’ve seen her influence, Heda. She’s said to have spies, even here.” 

Lexa’s gaze flicked to the door, where Titus had been earlier. 

“So you’ve said.” She murmured. 

A moment of silence passed between them, with Lexa deep in thought, before finally rubbing her chin and turning to Costia with a determined look. 

“It doesn’t matter. Trap or not, it’s _Klark_.” Lexa’s tone left absolutely no room for arguing. 

Costia noticed that she couldn’t be swayed, and nodded. “What should I tell Titus?” 

“Nothing.” Lexa hastened over to where she’d left the radio, pocketing it. “I want everyone to think I’m here. Tell them I’ve called a recess.” 

“And when they ask why?” Costia reminded. 

Lexa’s lip curled disdainfully. “Tell them these are my direct orders.” Lexa allowed herself a fraction of a smirk. “They won’t ask why.” 

“What if you’re captured?” Costia pointed out in a quiet, fearful voice. 

Losing Lexa would be one of the worst tragedies Polis could suffer, not to mention, Costia would be losing a very dear friend. 

“I won’t be.” Lexa assured, her mind already on Clarke once more. “I’m not going to be seen.” 

* * *

Clarke came to violently, trying to sit upright. She found her arms and legs were bound, thick ropes preventing any possible escape, stuck to the chair she’d been left in. 

The first thing she noticed was the noise. 

She was locked in yet another room on the Ark, that felt more like a dungeon with its absolute lack of life. The room was empty, and Clarke could barely recognize it as what used to be the control room of the Ark. 

It was majorly damaged in the crash, made apparent by the exposed electrical wiring of the smashed in console in the center of the room. 

Clarke’s eyes raked over the damaged equipment, the shattered displays that she used to dream about, wishing that she could somehow see her mother, or have her mother see her. 

Just to know she was alive, and well. 

Oh, how it all changed. 

Now that they were finally united, it seemed life had other plans for the Griffin family. 

_Family_. 

Clarke startled at the thought, looking around desperately. 

No one else remained in the room. 

Not her parents, not Bellamy (that traitorous prick), or even Pike, whom Clarke suspected to be behind the sudden chaos that overtook the Ark. 

Just her, alone in the dark confines of her childhood home (if it could be called that). 

Clarke pressed her lips together firmly, trying to push all the excess information to the back of her mind, to compartmentalize, like Lexa. 

When there was a war at her doorstep, and her people were in danger, and the problems would seemingly never cease- that’s when Lexa ascended to greatness. 

Clarke saw it firsthand. 

The ability to take the information given, to process it, to refuse to allow it to cloud her judgement. Lexa was like a machine, built to lead, sometimes. 

Clarke knew how hard it was for her, at times, to swallow the emotions that threatened to violently surface. 

At first, before Clarke really knew, she’d asked Lexa what kept her going. 

Why did she bother with it all? The wars, the ruling, the bloodshed, the public opinion, the constant fight to survive in a world that wanted nothing more than to do away with them, and everything and everyone they knew. 

How did she continue to wake, every morning, and undergo a routine that would mentally take a toll on just about anyone else? 

So one day, Clarke had asked her. 

The memory came rushing back to her, suddenly. 

_“Leave us.”_

_Lexa’s traditional dismissal of her handmaidens from their bedchambers always included a delicate wave of her hand._

_Clarke watched as they quickly filed out of the room, always responsive to Lexa’s commands._

_As soon as Lexa heard the click of the door shutting, she let out a sigh that almost seemed to deflate her. Her stiff shoulders relaxed, the furrow in her brow disappeared, her lips finally were not pressed together in a thin line._

_Her eyes, virid and tired, held a little glimmer in them, still._

_Her hair fell around her shoulders in waves, now that her braids had been undone._

_Clarke felt herself go weak in the knees._

_She was so fucking beautiful, Clarke was sure she was a goddess who’d come down to Earth to defend whatever good was left in it._

_Lexa regarded her with a curious gaze, and she looked vulnerable, somehow._

_She looked far younger, and less like the rigid Commander who’d lead wars, and fought like a champion in the ring._

_“Can I…” Clarke began nervously, licking her lips. “Can I ask you something?”_

_Lexa’s intelligent green gaze reflected the slightest bit of confusion as she regarded Clarke curiously._

_Why on Earth would her wife (the bold, reckless, stubborn sky girl), be nervous to ask her anything?_

_Surely Clarke knew that, if she asked Lexa to fetch the stars for her, Lexa would._

_“Klark?” Lexa inquired softly, as Clarke stepped forward, slowly cupping her cheeks._

_Lexa shivered instantly at her wife’s touch, heartbeat quickening with the increased contact._

_“No one works as hard as you do.” Clarke whispered reverently, content to simply feel Lexa beneath her fingertips, to know she was real. “No one cares as much you do.”_

_Lexa found herself remembering to breathe suddenly, as Clarke continued, her blue gaze absolutely penetrating Lexa’s soul._

_“They don’t deserve you.” Clarke murmured, softly stroking her cheek. “No one could ever deserve you…”_

_Lexa opened her mouth to protest, but Clarke silenced it with a soft kiss, taking extra care to adoringly kiss the freckle on the Commander’s upper lip._

_“Why do you do it?” Clarke asked finally, with a great sigh._

_Lexa looked perplexed for a moment, and Clarke allowed herself a moment to elaborate._

_“What keeps you going?” Clarke clarified slightly, tucking away a stray lock of hair behind Lexa’s ear. “What could possibly compel you to go through this every single day, for the rest of your life?”_

_Lexa nodded slowly, understanding Clarke’s question finally._

_When she spoke, Clarke realized yet again just how eloquent of a leader she was, even was she wasn’t intending to be._

_“I would ask myself the same question, had I not met you.”_

_Clarke’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Lexa thought it was so charming that she couldn’t resist reaching out to cup Clarke’s face in her own hands, the two seemingly unable to get enough of each other._

_“When I’m in a room full of ambassador’s at each other’s throats...When I’m shaking after a battle in the rain, and my own people are face down in the dirt before me...When the war horns alert me that Azgeda has made another advance...I remember you.” Lexa murmured._

_It was obvious, from the gleam in her eyes, that she meant every word she was saying,._

_“Me?” Clarke sputtered, and Lexa’s smile deepened at her disbelief._

_“Sha, niron.” Lexa assured her, and Clarke looked at her like she was a poet, baring her heart in the simplest of ways. “I remember that you will be there to greet me after the meetings, and you will be safer if I do my part in these battles, and you remind me what is at stake if we let vicious dogs like Azgeda determine our fate.”_

_Clarke’s heart was slamming into her ribcage._

_All she could manage was a breathy “oh.”_

_And suddenly they were kissing, finally closing the distance between them with such vigor that Clarke was surprised they didn’t slam into each other._

_Clarke was reeling at the honor- because that’s truly what it was, an honor. Leksa, her Leksa, the Commander of the twelve clans, the defender of freedom, the most important person alive (both to Clarke, and the rest of what was left of their world)._

_Motivated by her._

_On some level, it was deeply satisfying to know- or, to confirm, that Lexa felt as desperately in love as Clarke did._

_“You don’t need me to tell you that you’re the reason why I’m still standing here today.” Clarke whispered, soft and tender._

_Lexa flinched at the memories._

_It was true. Clarke had been very close to...ending her life...particularly when she wasn’t yet accustomed to life on Earth._

_The way she was spat upon by the Grounders, her inability to fend for herself, her sheer loneliness- missing her people, miles and miles above the Earth and heavens themselves._

_It was enough to do her in, almost._

_They rarely spoke of that dark time, something that chilled Lexa to her core._

_The mere idea that Clarke wouldn’t be there, standing in front of her, alive and vibrantly so…. It brought about a cold, dark fear, black and unforgiving in the pit of her stomach._

_But then Clarke’s cobalt gaze would find hers, and the feeling would melt away, with each rise and fall of Clarke’s chest._

_She was here._

_She was alive._

_And Lexa would spend every day of her life ensuring that Clarke never felt so alone again._

_And she’d kept her promise._

“And _I_ fucking left her.” Clarke spoke aloud, drawing herself from her own memory. 

She felt idiotic for having such faith in the goodness of people- her people, specifically. 

She’d gone and gotten herself captured, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. 

So many thoughts were racing through her mind. 

Did Lexa know, by now? What time was it? How long had it been? Who was behind this? Did she have any true allies left? What would Lexa risk to get her back, if she knew Clarke was missing?

And perhaps most importantly: would she survive until that point? 

* * *

Being alone outside of Polis, without any sort of security detail, was not something Lexa was used to, in the years since she’d assumed the position of the Commander. 

She almost always was flanked by an elite group of guards, hand picked by Anya (she didn’t trust Titus to choose them), who would constantly be ready to die for her at any given moment. 

Lexa had almost forgotten her potential to move to quietly, the only sounds audible to her were those of her horses hooves, softly trodding on the leafy forest floor. 

Sunlight would occasionally filter in through the trees, illuminating Lexa’s face, mostly hidden by her hood. 

She’d left using the same route she and Clarke used to sneak away from Polis when they were younger, often meeting for moonlight trysts. 

Costia and Anya were the only two souls in Polis that were aware of her absence. 

She’d insisted on keeping it a secret from Titus, knowing he wouldn’t respond well to the news. 

She knew better than to bring a group of warriors or scouts, knowing that she’d be sending them in harm’s way. 

With the technology the Ark had, particularly their firearms, she refused to let her people face them head on. 

A nagging, vicious voice at the back of her mind insisted that they could take down the Ark in the dead of night, dispatching them with ease. A small group of Lexa’s best warriors could move silently in the dark black of the night, destroying the armory where they kept their weapons, leaving them prey to her whim. 

She tried her best to shake the thought, despite its usefulness. 

These were still Clarke’s people, and she refused to commit genocide, as much as Clarke’s people might have warranted it with their senseless accusations and threats. 

Dusk was approaching, and Lexa was nearing the clearing where the Ark had fallen. 

She’d ridden faster than she’d liked to have admitted, but there was a constant fear in her heart that only seemed to increase as the hours passed, and Clarke made no attempt to contact her via the radio she’d given her. 

And Lexa had tried, again and again. 

All she would hear was the empty clicking of the radio, and then silence. 

All she could imagine was Clarke. 

_Clarke injured, somewhere, stubbornly gritting her teeth, trying to tend to a wound she couldn’t bear. Clarke, being led to her death by the wicked Pike, turning her people into a weapon against the Grounders, fueled by hate and rage._

The more Lexa imagined these terrible realities, the more real they became. 

She spurred her horse onwards, towards the camp. 

She never should have left Clarke alone. 

With each gallop, she was realizing something; something terrifying for any Commander to realize: She was willing to throw it all away for Clarke’s safety. 

She recalled, one night, how Clarke had so tenderly asked her why she continued to go on the way she did, with so many responsibilities. 

She’d told Clarke it was _her. She_ was the reason Lexa bothered with all of it- the idea of a future, a peaceful one, spent at Clarke’s side? 

It was all she could hope for. 

And now she’d gone and jeopardized it. 

She’d been naive, too trusting of Clarke’s people, too soft when she voiced her opinions with Clarke.

Costia and Anya had left under the impression that Lexa had a plan, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Simply put: her soulmate was missing and there wasn’t anything else in the world that mattered, knowing Clarke’s life was at risk. 

She had one plan: leave with Clarke. 

_If Clarke’s still alive._

Lexa felt a chill run through her body, leaving her jaw tightened and her fists clenched around the reins. 

That wasn’t an option. 

She couldn’t even allow herself to _think_ it. 

It was in the midst of her sharp sense of denial that Lexa heard a rustling in the thicket just twenty feet from her horse. 

It was noticeable over the sound of her horse’s hooves. 

That was the first thing Lexa noticed. 

And that meant it wasn’t some small creature scurrying about. 

Lexa’s brows furrowed as she slowed her horse slowly, almost imperceptibly. 

Another rustling came from the bushes, and two or three ravens seemed to take off from where the noise had come from. 

Definitely not a small creature. 

* * *

Clarke wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed since she’d come to. 

All she could think about was Lexa, and how parched she was, and how her entire body ached from the effects of the shock. 

She didn’t know how long it had been- hours, maybe, until the door had opened to reveal Bellamy, sliding it firmly shut behind him. 

The moment Clarke saw him, her expression soured.

He was carrying a beat up metal mug, and Clarke felt herself licking her lips at the sign of water. 

Then she remembered the way he’d double crossed her family, and realized she’d rather die of dehydration than give Bellamy the satisfaction of watching her accept it. 

She glared up at him, eyes fierce. 

She now knew what it felt like to be a caged animal, poked and prodded at, held in captivity. 

He met her gaze with an unreadable expression. 

“I’m sorry it had to be like this.” Bellamy cleared his throat. 

Clarke rolled her eyes, and it only seemed to stoke his fire. 

“Your mother’s leadership was a fragile one.” He continued, holding out the cup to Clarke’s lips. 

Clarke glared up at him still, refusing to drink. 

Bellamy sighed, shaking his head. “You really should drink, after that shock.” 

Clarke let the words settle in, licking her lips. 

She channeled Lexa, as best she could, keeping her chin up, her eyes narrowed, laser-like focus as she pinned Bellamy with her gaze alone. 

“She was right about you.” Clarke offered in disgust. 

Bellamy tsked. “We’re in danger. We need someone who knows how to lead.” 

“Where are my parents?” Clarke demanded. 

Bellamy put the mug down before her, his hands up in surrender. “They’re fine, Clarke. And it’s not really them I’d be worried about, either.” Bellamy glanced behind him once, as if to check to see if anyone was listening. “Pike will be coming in here to speak with you. I suggest you give him the answers he’s looking for. He’s not the same teacher you remember.” 

Clarke gave Bellamy a look of pure hatred. She followed his gaze to her exposed forearm, where her tattoo was. 

He looked guilty, almost, as if he knew he were doing something wrong. 

“He’s going to want to know all about her.” 

Clarke honestly couldn’t tell if Bellamy was warning her, or simply telling her what he’d be after. 

Not that it mattered. 

It was _Lexa_. 

If they thought they’d get a single utterance from her that would ever endanger her wife, they were even more delusional than Clarke believed. 

She’d prepared for this. 

_“I want to see her.” Clarke folded her arms in front of Titus, who stood guard outside of Lexa’s new chambers, as the newly determined Commander’s fleimkepa._

_“You insolent-” Titus snarled. “For the last time, girl, she’s not to be disturbed, especially not by-”_

_Titus nearly shook when the door to the Commander’s chambers opened just enough for Lexa to appear between the space._

_Clarke wanted to gasp, to react, but she held herself back._

_Lexa looked exhausted, pale, with great bags under her usually gleaming gaze._

_“If you ever speak to Klark in such a manner again, I will make sure that you never set foot in Polis again, Titus.” Lexa threatened, but her voice came out flat, exhausted, monotone._

_She stepped aside, and Clarke exchanged a cold glance with Titus as she pushed past him, and into the dark bedroom, illuminated by nothing more than a few burning candles._

_Lexa pushed the door closed behind her, and turned to face Clarke, looking pitiful for perhaps the first time ever. Her frame looked smaller from the way she seemed to be doubled over in pain, and her eyes looked dull._

_“Oh my god.” Clarke whispered._

_She wasn’t exactly sure how she ended up with Lexa’s face buried in her neck, supporting most of Lexa’s body weight with her arms around her lover._

_Slowly, Clarke moved backwards until she hit Lexa’s bed, lowering herself and her niron onto the furs._

_Lexa laid on her side, face to face with Clarke, as Clarke cupped her cheek, frowning at the cut on Lexa’s lip._

_“What did they do to you?” Clarke demanded fiercely, her heart pounding in her chest._

_“It is customary…” Lexa began slowly, as if her mind couldn’t keep up with her own body anymore. “For Heda to receive...resistance training. So that I may be less susceptible to...giving away sensitive information.”_

_Clarke’s lip quivered slightly, and a chill took over her._

_“You mean....they tortured you?”_

_Lexa averted her gaze. “No.” She murmured._

_Clarke refused to listen, tugging softly at Lexa’s gown._

_She revealed a patchwork of bruises and welts lining her back, adorned by a few odd cuts._

_If Clarke hadn’t known better, she’d have said Lexa was injured in a bad fight._

_But she did know better, and she’d watched Lexa very recently slay those who were regarded as some of the best fighters the clans had ever seen, just to win the conclave._

_Chills racked her body at the memories, the darkest times of her life, and Lexa’s to be sure._

_She ran her fingers over each bruise, tears slowly but surely forming in her eyes._

_What had they done to her? To her girl, the one who enjoyed waking up to soft embraces, the one whose smile would make Clarke’s heart stutter and trip over itself like a baby deer._

_These weren’t her people._

_No, how could they be?_

_Subjecting their brilliant young leader to torture, under the guise of what? Protecting the clans’ secrets?_

_“Shhh.” Lexa soothed softly, despite her exhausted state. “Ai niron, it’s okay. I’m okay-”_

_“You’re not.” Clarke hissed with determination, rage fueling her every thought._

_“I’m stronger, because of it.” Lexa whispered firmly. “And the next time, I will be even stronger-”_

_“The next time?” Clarke demanded, breathing ragged. “Leksa, there isn’t going to be a next time-”_

_Lexa’s brow furrowed. “My training is not yet complete-”_

_“Dammit, don’t you see yourself as human being?” Clarke snapped, chest heaving._

_Lexa went silent for a moment, and Clarke immediately felt terrible for snapping in the manner that she did._

_“I’m going with you, then.”_

_That finally seemed to shake Lexa from whatever silence had gripped her._

_“You can’t.” She began calmly._

_“Like hell I can’t.” Clarke’s stubborn streak began to make itself apparent._

_“I don’t expect you to understand-”_

_“Let me make it clear, then.” Clarke was an inch away from her face now. “Whatever they do to you, they do to me.”_

_Lexa looked disgusted at the thought. “Klark, this is the path of Heda, as it has been since the original-”_

_“I understand.” Clarke gritted her teeth. “I’m not arguing that. I’m just saying, whatever happens to you, happens to me. You can’t ask me to stand by and watch this, and refuse to do the same.” Clarke snapped, reaching for Lexa._

_Lexa fell silent and Clarke knew she’d struck her silent._

_“This is….not like the training we had, Clarke.” Lexa whispered, practically begging Clarke to rethink._

_“You think I don’t know that?” Clarke pressed. “I’ll be a liability if I don’t go through this with you. If I’m captured-”_

_“You won’t be captured.” Lexa promised fiercely. “Nia can have Polis before she can have you.”_

_Lexa’s words stirred a deep, heavy affection within Clarke._

_Lexa opened her arms, and Clarke didn’t hesitate to move into her embrace, wrapping her arms around Lexa so tightly, she thought she might burst._

_She just needed to feel Lexa’s warmth, to bury her face in Lexa’s hair, now free of its traditional braids, to remind herself that Lexa was here, that she was alive._

_They would spend several nights falling asleep like that, holding each other, covered in bruises, unspeakable lessons learned throughout their “resistance training”, manifesting themselves in cuts, sore muscles and aching bodies._

_So many times she’d been asked about Lexa._

_Again and again, until she’d learned how not to speak at all._

_It wasn’t easy, no- not when every part of her body screamed in agony and her brain was so overwhelmed with pain like she’d never felt before._

_There was something soul crushing about expecting a beating, again and again, and receiving nothing in return. No progress, no closer to a conclusion than when the beatings began._

_It was only the sheer knowledge that she could one day save Lexa that kept her intact._

_The knowledge that, no matter what was used against her, she would never, ever endanger the woman that meant everything to her._

_So no, it wasn’t easy._

_But it was worth it._

And come hell or high water, Clarke was ready. 

  
  


* * *

Lexa made sure not to stop her horse as it slowed. 

She could _feel_ the hairs on her neck rising, her entire body tense like a drawn bowstring. 

She was being followed. 

Lexa’s mind flew to the possibilities she was faced with. There were no deer in this part of the forest. 

Another sound from behind her, this time, closer. 

Lexa inhaled a deep breath. 

She was being followed. 

In a split second, Lexa made her decision. 

She rounded her horse suddenly, making a broad circle as she came around the thicket. She dismounted the horse with ease, eyes never moving from the bushes. 

“Out.” Lexa issued the command with all the authority of her position.

When nothing happened, Lexa sighed, reaching for one of her daggers. It seemed a showy twirl of her wrist was all she needed to look like she knew exactly how to throw one. 

(And _oh,_ she did.) 

Lexa was unsurprised to see a man- perhaps no older than herself, really- stumble out of the bushes. He was wearing strange garments that immediately indicated him as one of Clarke’s people. His shirt was dirty, and there were bits of twigs and leaves in his hair and his clothes. 

Lexa looked thoroughly unimpressed. 

When she glanced at the bag on his back, and the eyepiece he’d been holding, she came to the conclusion that he’d been watching the Ark from afar as well. 

Though he looked terrified of her, eyes particularly fixated on the gleaming blade in her hand, his brown eyes had a certain _kindness_ to them, and though he was decently well muscled, he didn’t look particularly dangerous. 

Lexa made no move to sheath her weapon. Instead, she chose to test this new stranger with a level gaze that made her ambassadors fear her, despite her peaceful reputation. 

He averted his gaze and dropped his head, his hands up. 

Ah, so this one understood peace? 

A surprise, coming from Clarke’s warmongering people. 

“I...I’m sorry.” the man apologized, finding his voice. “I’m lost.” 

Lexa shook her head almost imperceptibly. 

“You are...far away from your Ark.” Lexa noted aloud, watching the man heave a sigh of relief when he realized Lexa spoke gonasleng. 

A flash of guilt passed through his gaze, and Lexa decided to pry. 

Any information to get her closer to Clarke. 

When he didn’t answer, she decided to press him. 

Better yet, she could use him as leverage. 

Raising her blade, Lexa pointed at him, as he swallowed audibly. 

“If you want to live, you will walk with me through those gates. I will give your life in exchange for someone else.” Lexa explained simply. “If you run, I will bury _this_ …” She held up her dagger. “In your back. And that will be to slow you down, only.” Lexa chose her words carefully, watching his reaction. 

Sweat beaded along his brow. 

“I…” He choked. “Please, you can’t.” 

Lexa’s brow furrowed. “All you have to do is go home.” She offered dryly. 

The man’s brows furrowed as he followed her words. “I can’t.” He explained. “They...they’ll kill me, if I ever go back.” 

Lexa paused, blinking for a moment. 

“Kill you?” She repeated, seeing the obvious flaw in her plan, now. If they didn’t want him, he was useless as leverage. 

But if they didn’t want him, maybe he knew something she didn’t. 

“I escaped right after the crash. I haven’t been back since.” He explained breathlessly. 

Lexa’s eyes narrowed. “Then what are you still doing so close to the crash site?” She demanded, fingers itching around the hilt of her sword. “Who are you?” 

“I’m Wells.” The man offered, his tone desperate.

Lexa froze completely, lowering her sword in an instant. 

Lexa was looking at him as if he’d just grown a second head. 

“You’re Wells?” She repeated, dumbstruck. 

Wells looked confused, perhaps even suspicious as he took the smallest of steps backwards. 

Lexa realized she was frightening him, but the realization was simply too great. 

“You’re Klark’s Wells.” Lexa breathed, and Wells froze too, like he’d been slapped in the face. 

“Clarke?” Wells whispered the name like it were that of a ghost. He shook his head, he had to be mistaken. 

“Klark Griffin is alive and well, and I think she’s being held captive at the Ark as we speak.” Lexa uttered, sheathing her sword as she offered just the tiniest of smiles at her shift in luck. 

Wells didn’t move, shaking his head. “This is crazy. I...I haven’t seen Clarke...I...Who even _are_ you?” Wells demanded. 

Lexa met his gaze, trying to coax him back to reality.

He would know the Ark far better than she, and Clarke’s life was hanging in the balance. 

“I am Commander Leksa kom Trikru of the thirteen clans.” Lexa announced, extending her hand the way she knew Clarke’s people did during official greetings. “And I am Klark’s wife.” 

The last thing Lexa expected was for the boy to gape at her for a few seconds before keeling over into the bush he’d emerged from.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter: mentions/depictions of torture.

_ Running.  _

_ Lexa is running.  _

_ Light filters in through the trees, casting pools of gold onto the forest floor.  _

_ The light breeze makes the leaves and the plants sway.  _

_ Birds chirp and their warm songs fill Lexa’s ears, but one sound is prominent above all else.  _

_ Laughter.  _

_ A husky, beautiful, carefree laugh that is more beautiful than anything Lexa has ever heard.  _

_ Lexa knows she would fight wars, face insurmountable odds, give anything and everything just to hear this laugh.  _

_ But she doesn’t have to.  _

_ The sounds get louder and louder, as Lexa nears the clearing.  _

_ And then she sees her. _

_ It’s the most breathtaking sight she’s ever seen.  _

_ Clarke is there, waiting for her. There are no more shadows, and Clarke glows in the direct sunlight. Her hair is free, in intricate braids that can only be Lexa’s handiwork.  _

_ Lexa’s lungs heave as she comes to a stop just a few feet from Clarke. _

_ Her golden hair, her sharp blue eyes that make Lexa’s insides melt away to nothing at all.  _

_ Her companion, her friend, the skygirl. Her lover, her confidant, her wife.  _

_ Clarke is everything to her. _

_ And she’s smiling. Lexa’s forgotten how gleeful Clarke’s smiles can be.  _

_ When there are no wars to fight, people to protect and feed.  _

_ As if on cue, she looks around them, as if expecting to find anything more than a forest by the edge of their cabin, the slopes of the bordering mountains to the horizon to the east, the serenity of the lake to the west.  _

_ Polis is nowhere to be found, as is the Ark, TonDC, Azgeda, and all the rest.  _

_ Lexa reaches out to Clarke, and feels the warmth of her embrace.  _

_ Lexa feels the guilt eating away at the pit of her stomach, the questions remaining unanswered. Did she abandon her duty to her people? Did she embrace her duty to protect Clarke above all else?  _

_ Would it really be that terrible to take Clarke’s hand and run away with her?  _

_ Without their people and their struggles.  _

_ The constant danger, the bloodshed, the famine, the politics that ended up getting them nowhere, the conclave, the clan rivalries that served no purpose other than laying the foundation for a rebellion.  _

_ She could just be with Clarke, here.  _

_ Every day, waking up in each other’s arms. Hunting together. Riding side by side, trekking every path they could find together, or settling down in a cabin that reminded them of the old world.  _

_ Lexa glanced back up again, and Clarke was gone.  _

_ Her brows furrowed at the sudden disturbance.  _

_ “Ugh….” A groan came, this time, not Clarke’s voice at all.  _

“My head.” The voice belonged to none other than “Klark’s Wells” who was sprawled out on the forest floor, at the center of Lexa’s makeshift camp, just beyond the line of sight of the Ark’s guards, in the nearby forest. He looked exhausted and dirty, but very much alive. 

Lexa herself had been resting briefly before they planned to move, giving Wells until nightfall to recover from his episode of shock. 

Lexa didn’t quite understand these sky people. 

They seemed soft, where her people seemed hardened and gritty. They took bad news very poorly, it seemed. 

It only intrigued her more, seeing as Clarke was an anomaly, then. 

Her wife was tougher than she was, and that wasn’t praise that Lexa would give to anyone else. 

“Get up slowly.” Lexa spoke for the first time, folding her arms across her chest as if she could will the anxiety away. 

“Wha- what’s happening?” Wells mumbled as he blinked rapidly, eyes darting to Lexa and then her horse, hitched up to the tree behind them. 

“Please tell me your injury has not affected your memory.” Lexa remarked. 

Wells shook his head, and then winced, immediately regretting it. “Ah...no. You are...Clarke’s friend?” 

“Clarke’s wife.” Lexa corrected sharply. 

Well’s eyes widened. “Right, uh…” He swallowed audibly. “I’m remembering that, now.” 

Wells slowly sat up, seeming to realize once again that Lexa had no intentions of hurting him. 

Still, he regarded Lexa with a curious expression. 

“What?” Lexa asked, glancing at him with the slightest hint of annoyance. 

“How can I believe you?” Wells demanded suddenly. 

Lexa snorted. “It would seem you don’t have a choice.” 

Wells narrowed his eyes at her. “You say you’re Clarke’s friend. How do I know that’s true?” 

Lexa looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “What could I gain by lying?” 

Wells rubbed his face with his hands and let out a groan. “Look, Commander, I don’t know. I just passed out, I haven’t eaten properly in days, and my own people want me dead. And now, you come in here and tell me my best friend is still alive, and you want to save her, by attacking my people’s camp. Do you understand why I’m interrogating you, now?” 

Lexa watched him, and had to fight the urge to smile. 

He and Clarke had very similar mannerisms when they were frustrated, and they both seemed to share the quality of oversharing, which Lexa was beginning to believe was a common trait for the sky people. 

“I am not  _ attacking  _ your people.” Lexa sighed. “My desire is to rescue Clarke without bloodshed.” 

“How do you know Clarke needs rescuing?” Wells asked curiously, tilting his head. 

Lexa sighed. “She and I had constant radio communication. She stopped contacting me.” 

Wells looked extremely uncomfortable to be pointing out the next statement. “Maybe she wants to stay?” 

Lexa didn’t even seem to entertain the idea. “She needs help.” Lexa gritted out. 

“How do you know?” 

Lexa was fuming with all the questions, by this point. 

“Klark and I have plans!” She snapped, reverting to her thicker accent in her anger. “We will broker peace between our people, we will establish new laws of peace and order, and we  _ will _ leave all of this behind us.” Lexa spoke the last part softly. 

She’d never openly admitted that. 

It was something she and Clarke had been thinking about ever since Lexa began to train for the conclave. 

As loyal as Lexa was, as much as her duty was her priority, she couldn’t help but wonder what her life would be like, away from the responsibilities she never wanted. 

She dreamt about it often. 

Before battle, when she needed to center herself, to be calm and stable, she thought of being alone, with Clarke. 

_ Running away  _ with Clarke. 

It was shameful for Heda to think such thoughts, Lexa knew. 

She could  _ feel _ the voices of the Commanders, disapproving her every action, every decision in her mind. 

But Clarke had shown her that there was more to life than simply surviving, 

More to life than following broken traditions, dragging her people through ceremonies that ended in bloodshed, following ancient laws that no longer represented the will of the people. 

Clarke showed her that she could be happy. 

As distant as it seemed, a life away from the burdens of leadership, Lexa knew it was attainable. 

It was attainable, and she would make damn sure to attain it. 

“Klark is far too stubborn to give up on everything.” Lexa added with a hint of amusement, and that even brought Wells to smile. 

“Maybe you  _ are  _ who you say you are.” Wells murmured, rubbing his chin. 

“I will bring Clarke to this very spot.” Lexa promised, her tone solemn. “If you wish it, you may ride back with us to my city, Polis, where you will be protected. If you help me get Clarke back.” Lexa clarified, her tone leaving no room for argument. 

Wells looked up at her, nodding slowly. “I would do it just to save Clarke.” He clarified. 

In that moment, when their eyes met, Lexa decided that she liked Wells very much, and she could see why her wife made fast friends with him. 

* * *

The space in the air vents was more limited than Octavia had been led to believe. Still, it beat getting wrangled out with the others, herded like sheep out into the center of camp for what was sure to be a bloodbath. 

She had kept quiet all the while, trying to get her bearings in their new home. 

She was used to being the invisible girl, and it paid dividends, when the chaos erupted. 

While Octavia hadn’t said much, she had been listening. 

Things were dire at camp. Loyalties were constantly shifting, people were hungry, threatened, afraid, and very ignorant. 

She couldn’t understand the decision to turn on the Grounders, before they’d even given them a chance. 

She couldn’t lie, she understood Clarke’s initial interest in them. 

They were a beautiful people, living solidly off the Earth, unlike her own people. They all seemed strong, capable and fierce, able to protect themselves and fend for themselves, while maintaining a beautiful sense of culture amongst them. 

The Ark wouldn’t know culture if it bit it in the ass, it seemed. 

Unity Day was an absolute disaster, and all it did was ruffle the feathers of those who were bored (and  _ everyone  _ was bored on the Ark), causing them to seek trouble. 

Bellamy, unfortunately, had taken to his role as her elder brother with as much force as possible. 

She knew that, deep down, he wanted the best for her, but she felt Bellamy was losing touch with her more and more. 

For all the books on epic heroes he’d read, she’d expected him to see through the thinly veiled guise of someone like Pike, to recognize that there was no leader who could guarantee success through bloodshed like he did. 

Commander Lexa, on the other hand, seemed unreal, to Octavia. 

She knew that Lexa couldn’t have been much older, but the way she carried herself, with such poise and grace- it was like standing before royalty. She had a certain wisdom to her eyes that made her seem centuries older than Charles Pike. 

The way she spoke, so carefully calculated and articulate. 

Octavia made her decision long before she’d heard about the rebellion. 

It wasn’t easy, clearing and mapping out every air duct in the Ark, or at least those that were still usable, as much of them had been irreparably damaged by the fall. 

But it created a safe place for Octavia to hide, get about the camp unseen, and most importantly: it became a solid method of eavesdropping. 

Initially, that wasn’t the intended purpose. 

If Octavia wanted to go room to room, just to hear awful sob stories and people crying into each other’s arms, she could have just signed onto medical detail with Abby. 

It was an accidental discovery- a sort of gross invasion of privacy, that changed Octavia’s mind. 

She hadn’t known it was Clarke’s temporary room that she would be passing over one night, on her way sneaking out of her room. 

She barely recognized Clarke’s voice, but when she gazed at her through the slits in the vent, she had to pause. 

Clarke looked so...mundane. 

Nothing like the hardened war hero who’d gotten off her high horse (literally) to set foot on camp and changed everything. 

She was stretched across her bed, softly running her hand along the empty space on the bed beside her. 

There was a radio in her other hand, and she was just shaking her head and smiling while she listened to the soft voice of another girl through the radio. 

And if this wasn’t the saddest part- Octavia couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen that. Genuine love, emotion, affection, hell- happiness, in the metal cage that was the Ark. And how could she, or anyone else on the Ark, ever hope to find happiness behind their dictators and guns, their electrified fences and their illogical hatred for those who were here before them. 

The moment was heavy. 

Slowly, she crawled away, careful not to bring attention to herself, already feeling guilty for having heard what she did. 

She realized with an eerie feeling that what she’d seen was nothing special- just a private moment between two friends, two lovers, what  _ should have been  _ an everyday occurance for them, all of them, if they could set aside their differences and work towards that. 

But Octavia knew a great deal about reality, and she knew it was unkind. 

The chances of her people slipping out of Pike’s manipulative rhetoric were slim to none. 

But the chances of Clarke agreeing to take her back with her to the Grounder city? 

That was a possibility. 

And all she had to do was appeal to Clarke, to make herself useful to her, somehow. 

Octavia had spent hours upon hours, contemplating how she could do something for Clarke, enough to convince her to give Octavia a chance. 

After all, she wasn’t sure Lexa would even allow any of her people into their cities, after what had transpired here between them. 

And then the rebellion started. 

Suddenly, the armed guards were not responding to Abby, or Jake, or anyone with any vestige of true power. 

They separated Clarke from her parents, holding her in what used to be the control room. Abby and Jake were bound and dragged outside for their “public trial”- Octavia severely doubted that Pike would be letting them live. 

At least not Jake, since Abby was the only doctor they had. 

Both were surrounded by armed guards, and Octavia hadn’t the slightest clue of how to approach it. 

* * *

“The Ark was already a little complicated to navigate when it was put together.” Wells remarked, using the tip of a twig to draw on a soft patch of mud. 

Lexa’s eyes were on the horizon, where Clarke was being held, behind an electric fence, no less. 

While Lexa wanted nothing more than to ride in and wage war, she knew that wouldn’t do for several reasons. 

And if their bullets didn’t kill her, Clarke certainly would. 

This would require her to tap into training she hadn’t strengthened since she was under Anya’s tutelage. 

Stealth was not something the Commander of the twelve clans would require, but it  _ was  _ a skill that Trikru taught to its hunters, scouts, and of course, its spies. 

While Lexa was none of those things, she didn’t think it would be too difficult to sneak in during a coup of sorts, after all, the commotion would be a perfect cover. 

“ _ This  _ is the center of camp, for reference. This is the control room...or, what’s left of it. My father was in there...he…” Wells trailed off, refusing to look up at Lexa. “And  _ this…”  _ he circled a spot on his makeshift map. “Is where you’d be approaching from.” 

Lexa nodded, brows furrowed. “And where would Clarke be held?” 

Wells looked unsure. “We don’t have a holding place for prisoners, anymore.” he explained. “Do you...know what they want with Clarke?” 

Lexa’s eyes narrowed. “Charles Pike believes himself to be a revolutionary, and has interfered with our attempts to broker peace. He knows of her...affiliation...with me, and he will likely want to exploit that knowledge.” Lexa’s words had a chilling edge to them, and Wells seemed to be thankful he wasn’t on the receiving end. 

“You think they would…” Wells trailed off. 

“Torture her?” Lexa muttered. “Yes, which is why I need to go  _ now _ .” 

Wells nodded hurriedly. “From what I’ve gathered from watching the camp from afar, the guards are all Pike’s.” 

Lexa snorted. “And how is this good news?” 

“They’ll be busy carrying out his...mutiny, I guess. Which means you’ll have an easier time sneaking into the control room.” 

“The control room?” Lexa repeated, the words foreign on her tongue. 

Wells tapped the spot on his map. “There. It’s my best guess as to where they’re holding Clarke, if they didn’t want anyone to see her. That entire station is unusable, now. And you’re going to have to be quiet, unless you have a gun I don’t know about?” 

Lexa looked disgusted at the mere idea. “Grounders do not wield guns.” Lexa informed him curtly. 

Wells blew out a breath. “Then you can’t get caught.” 

“I won’t leave a trace, then.” Lexa answered, not at all swayed by Wells’ warnings. 

“Then that’s your plan.” 

“All of this, given that I can find a way around the electric fence.” Lexa sighed, clearly aggravated. 

Wells’ eyes widened. “They electrified the fence?” He gasped. 

Lexa’s lip curled in clear disdain. “It would seem your people enjoy building barriers rather than simply embracing change.” 

“They’re not my people.” Wells looked up at her with a ferocity that Lexa hadn’t seen before in him. 

A fire that reminded her very much of Clarke. 

“If you hear shots, and I haven’t returned in time, you should take the horse and ride to the west. You will be stopped by my scouts long before you will even see my city. Tell them Heda sent you, and give them this.” Lexa reached for one of her knives, handing it out to Wells. 

He glanced down at it in disbelief. 

“You tell them to take you to Anya, my general. She will take care of the rest.” Lexa told him firmly. 

“You’re not saying-” 

“Wells.” Lexa softened her tone slightly. “Do you understand?” 

“Yeah.” Wells nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.” 

* * *

Clarke’s body was sore, and the binds were cutting into her skin. 

She didn’t know how long it had been since she’d been fooled into Bellamy’s little act, and taken prisoner in the control room. 

Bellamy had left the water cup just out of reach, after she had, of course, refused to have any. 

Her head hurt more than anything, and her vision was blurry at times. 

All she could think about was Lexa. 

How she’d let her down. 

How she should have listened. 

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid, Clarke.  _

She’d had everything, and yet, she’d somehow managed to go and lose it all. 

Over what? 

Some false sense of martyrdom? Some unsupported belief that there really was hope and salvation for her people? 

The same people who invited her back, looked her in the eyes, and stabbed her in the back. 

She couldn’t believe that she’d fallen for any of it, truthfully. 

Perhaps it was the sweet temptation of finally bringing her people together, trying so desperately to feel whole again. 

Clarke wasn’t a sky person, and she wasn’t a Grounder anymore, given that Pike would kill her after she would refuse to give him any information. 

She was nothing, and it was the most ironic part of it all. 

She’d resisted and fought, tried so hard to bring her two lives together, to finally fill the void in her heart that had formed when she’d been left to die, falling all the way to Lexa’s feet. 

And now, she realized she was an even greater idiot than she previously had thought, simply for failing to realize that Lexa had filled that void all along. 

_ Lexa. _

Clarke missed everything about her. 

Her pensive, stormy gaze, the way she would glance at Clarke every so often while she worked. Clarke missed her hidden little smiles, the sweet scent of her hair as Clarke undid her braids in the evenings, the feeling of her smooth soft skin against Clarke’s. 

There wasn’t much she could do, now, to make it right. 

She’d left Lexa, and this was her consequence. 

The only thing she could do was stay strong, for Lexa. She knew exactly what was coming, given the solitary confinement, and the fact that she was in the abandoned station, for starters. 

She knew that Pike had eyes and ears around the camp, specifically people Clarke had previously trusted, like Bellamy Blake. 

They knew of her relationship with Lexa, and her status among Trikru and its people. 

Simply put: Clarke knew they were going to torture her. 

Clarke knew that they were going to beat her to within an inch of her life, if they thought it would mean that she would give up all of Lexa’s secrets. 

And truthfully, she did know all of Lexa’s secrets. 

Every single one. 

That was a byproduct of growing so close to the most powerful person alive. 

But she also endured what Lexa endured. 

Clarke had the foresight to know that something like this would eventually arise. She made a conscious choice, then, to stay at Lexa’s side forever. Through wars, interrogations, and anything else that would challenge Lexa’s place on the throne. 

Clarke was easily willing to  _ die  _ for Leksa kom Trikru. 

And she was about to make it known. 

* * *

Octavia didn’t have to crawl very far to find out where Bellamy had been posted. 

She’d been intent on arming herself, and knew a trip to the armory was going to be damn near impossible, given how many guards she figured Pike would post there. 

She had only intended to survey it for a time being, until she could create a distraction big enough to draw away the immediate guards. 

She didn’t exactly know how to use a gun, but neither did half of Pike’s people, if their hunting results were anything to go by. 

Noises and echoes rang out across camp, and even in the vents, Octavia could feel the building sense of dread, of desperation. 

This was their great odyssey, then. 

To fall from the heavens themselves, only to ravage each other when they hit the ground.

Not her, if she had anything to say about it. 

She hadn’t entirely considered Bellamy’s role in all of this, but if one thing was clear, it was that he was too far gone to be talked out of it, at least for the time being. 

Octavia wasn’t sure if it was the hunger, the fear, the howls that came from the forest at night that seemed to put a dangerous sense of dread in these people, but they were cornered like frightened wolves, pouncing on the first sign of movement. 

Octavia carefully pressed her face against the vent, eyes searching the glory of the armory for anything that could be useful. 

Racks upon racks of standard military grade assault rifles were pressed up against the walls. Boxes of ammunition lined the other side of the room, making Octavia realize just why it was under such a tight watch. 

Somehow, she got the gut feeling that their predecessors knew quite well that someday, their people would set foot on Earth again. 

And they seemed to have had the realization that they wouldn’t be alone when they did so. 

The most intriguing part of the room, however, was the desk that was hauled into the center of the room, various items scattered on it. 

The desk and the trinkets atop it were occupied by Raven Reyes, and Octavia hadn’t even noticed her, or Bellamy standing over her, until she glanced up and sneered. 

“It’s not going to work.” She snapped, her voice sounding furious. 

Octavia watched carefully. 

What was Bellamy doing to Raven? 

“Cut the shit, Reyes. I know how smart you are.” Bellamy put his hand over hers and glanced into her eyes. “You can do this.” 

Octavia  _ almost  _ believed it was a genuine motivational gesture, until Raven slapped his arm away. 

“Fuck yourself, Blake.” She spat. “I don’t know what Pike put in your water, but this is insane.” 

“You do  _ rocket science,  _ Reyes. How hard can it be to build explosives?” Bellamy demanded through gritted teeth. 

It was then that Octavia noticed Bellamy’s hand, hovering over his shock baton, strapped to his side. 

Bellamy didn’t take long to completely fold, shaking his head furiously. “You either want us to survive, or you don’t. Which is it?” 

Raven leaned back in her chair, putting her hands down. “I won’t do it.” 

Bellamy let out a growl in frustration, reaching once more for the shock baton. 

Octavia almost couldn’t even recognize her brother- the way he looked when he pulled it out from its holster, switching it on with a sickening crackle. 

Raven looked up at him defiantly. 

Bellamy drew his arm back, and Octavia gasped, causing both him and Raven to freeze. 

“What was that?” Bellamy sounded paranoid, suddenly, gripping the baton uneasily. “Miller?” He shouted from behind the thick doors, hoping the guards posted outside would hear him. 

“Yeah?” Miller’s answer was muffled, but calm. 

Bellamy relaxed, shaking his head. 

When he turned back to Raven, Octavia realized she had no choice. 

She slammed her foot down, kicking the vent she was in with great force as it made a thudding sound, much louder than her gasp.

Instantly, Bellamy was on the prowl, eyes narrowed as he tried to locate the source of the noise. He slowly gripped his baton, carefully edging closer and closer. 

Octavia held her breath, never once in her life imagining that she’d be terrified for her fate, hiding from her own brother.

If he could be called that, right now. 

Occasionally, his gaze would flicker up towards the vent, as he approached, and Octavia knew he was coming. 

She remained completely still as he approached, getting closer and closer. 

She tried to rein in her breathing, but her heart was hammering. 

“What the fuck is-” 

Another thud sounded, and Bellamy fell to the floor in front of her, falling just short of the vent. 

Raven stood behind him, shoulders sagging, as she dropped the gun she’d yanked off one of the racks. 

A moment of silence passed, and Octavia remained entirely still, her breathing still erratic. 

“You can come out, Octavia.” Raven sighed, keeping her voice low. “We don’t have a lot of time, anyway.” 

Octavia’s eyes widened. 

She remained still in her position, hoping against hope that maybe, if she didn’t move, Raven would somehow delude herself into thinking she imagined it. 

Then again, Raven Reyes wasn’t regarded as the smartest person alive for just any reason. 

“That’s not how you use a gun.” Octavia finally muttered, mustering her strength to push the vent open, sliding out of it with practiced ease. 

Raven shook her head in tired amusement. “Sorry I didn’t kill your brother and sic every one of Pike’s lunatics on us. Is there another way you’d prefer me to save your ass?” 

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Who saved who, again?” 

Raven sobered up, glancing tentatively behind her. “What the hell is going on out there? I got taken from my own room. Next thing I know, Pike’s got me locked in here, and your idiot brother had a gun to my head, telling me I had to make explosives.” Raven snorted. 

“Pike’s making a move to seize power. He got the Griffins. It’s worse than I thought.” Octavia mumbled, rummaging through the racks and drawers, careful not to slam any of them closed. 

“What are you doing?” Raven hissed. “I knew you didn’t come here just to save me.” 

“I’m arming myself.” Octavia announced, reaching for a smaller, concealable handgun. She didn’t know how to use an assault rifle, and she realized it would slow her down more than it would help her escape.

“What exactly is your plan?” Raven rubbed her face. “Shoot people from the vents?” 

Octavia ignored her jab. “I’m getting out of here.” 

Raven looked dumbstruck. “And where the fuck will you go? Have you  _ heard  _ the noises that come out of the woods at night? Have you  _ seen  _ the type of people that live around here?  _ That- _ ” she pointed to Octavia’s gun, the piece already feeling weighty and foreign in the younger girl’s hand. “-is not going to get you far against people who can hurl spears at, like, a hundred feet per second.” 

Octavia opened her mouth to protest, but Raven seemed to be hellbent on convincing her that she wouldn’t survive more than a minute on her own. 

“Not to mention, you just committed treason like ten times over.” Raven hissed. “Knocking out Bellamy, the vents, the armory  _ theft _ , you’ll be hanged if you stay.” 

“Which is why I’m definitely not staying.” Octavia finished, stuffing boxes into her pockets frantically. 

“You don’t know how to survive.” 

“Yeah? I know two people who do.” 

Raven looked thrown. “Bellamy doesn’t- Oh. Jesus, fuck. You mean Clarke and Commander crossbones?” 

Octavia’s jaw tensed and she squared her shoulders. “When Bellamy wakes up, or whenever they open these doors...whatever comes first, they are going to get you, too.” Octavia warned her, voice grim. “You can either get yourself a gun, and help me get Clarke out of here, because she is our  _ only  _ chance of survival, or, you can stay the hell out of my way. I don’t know you very well, Reyes, and you’re definitely not ruining this for me now. So what’s it going to be?” 

Octavia stared deeply into the eyes of the prodigy, watching as she glanced down at her brother’s unmoving body, a deep, guilty sensation washing over his sister. 

“Let’s go.” Raven sighed, reaching for another handgun. 

* * *

Clarke’s head shot up when the doors opened. 

She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, really. 

Pike was there, flanked by two of his cronies from the farming station-(they had spent the most time with him, and were by far the most indoctrinated). 

Clarke took in as much of him as he possibly could. 

He was older than she’d remembered. 

His face was grim, even though he wore one of those smiles that made Clarke’s stomach churn. His beard was graying slightly. His eyes were dark and his expression was unreadable. His clothes were dirty, and Clarke tried not to focus on the random patches of dark red that stained his clothes. 

Hopefully they were from one of his failed hunts, and not his sudden revolution. 

The doors closed, and Pike was left alone in the room with Clarke. 

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes defiantly, instantly provoking him. 

Clarke felt a fire in her soul that she couldn’t explain. She could practically hear Lexa, ever careful, ever strategic,  _ begging  _ her not to go through with this. 

Lexa was always the voice of wisdom. 

Where Clarke was fiery and passionate outwardly, Lexa preferred to keep that side of her hidden away, until the time was right. 

Clarke thought with her heart, always, rarely ever acting on her logic, alone. Lexa seemed to be able to do both, and it was what made her such a gifted leader. 

If Lexa could, she would’ve told Clarke to play along, to give away information before accepting whatever sick agenda he had planned, for her. 

But Clarke knew Lexa would be blinded by her love, and that she had a duty to fulfill, to Lexa, and her people.

Clarke swore to herself and to Lexa, likely off in her tower in Polis, worried sick and distracted by Azgeda’s war efforts, that she wouldn’t let her down. 

She glanced at the parts of her tattoo that were visible under her tattered sleeve. 

She was going to stay strong. 

Pike approached, the sound of his heavy boots echoing in the mostly empty control room. 

He stopped just a few feet away from Clarke, towering over her in her bound position, forced to sit in her chair and stare up at him. 

“Clarke Griffin.” Pike called out, and it was almost as if he’d been taking roll in their “Earth Skills” class, again. 

Lexa taught her more in a day than he ever could have in a lifetime of those classes. 

“You’re something of a legend amongst our people.” Pike remarked, keeping his tone light. 

“You have to survive to become a legend.” Clarke informed him with a dry tone. 

Pike’s brows shot up. “That is true.” He nodded. “You of all people should know that. I mean, you did have to resort to savagery for quite some time. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with what you did to survive, Clarke. Your parents might not understand that, but I do.” He spoke with a saccharine tone of sincerity that made Clarke’s blood boil. 

How dare he speak condescendingly to her, when it was his people that were helpless, starving, and violent. 

How dare he even suggest that it  _ wasn’t  _ a privilege for Clarke to be taken interesting o Trikru’s society at all. 

“Why wouldn’t you accept peace?” Clarke spat, glancing up at him, eyes boring into his. “I want to know. What do you think this will accomplish? Once you become an enemy to the clans, they  _ will _ attack. And there are more of them than there are bullets in your guns.” Clarke growled. 

Part of her ached at even the idea of the Grounders getting mowed down in waves by the advanced weaponry Pike brought to the table. 

While it was true that the Grounders severely outnumbered them, Pike seemed unopposed to a full blown genocide. 

Clarke wouldn’t allow it. 

“We do  _ not  _ take orders from  _ inferior  _ people, Clarke.  _ We  _ are the apex predator, and we’re making it known. This is  _ our  _ land, the soil is  _ ours _ , the trees are  _ ours _ , the crops are  _ ours _ , the game is  _ ours _ . We can, and will take it. And if they try to stop us with these…”Warnings” and these “negotiations”, so be it. We are prepared to defend what is  _ ours _ .” Pike was practically foaming at the mouth by the end of that statement. 

“They were here before we ever were!” Clarke snarled. “This isn’t  _ ours _ , it never was! And-” 

“It will be like they were never here.” Pike uttered, so solemn and determined, Clarke felt her stomach churn from the implications alone. 

“I’m going to enjoy killing you.” Clarke growled, every hair on her body raised as the adrenaline coursed through her. “I’m-” 

Pike slapped her hard across the face, and suddenly Clarke’s vision was spinning. 

She could already feel the sore spot, deep on her right cheek, sure to leave a nasty bruise. 

Clarke flexed her jaw in pain, rolling her head slowly and glancing up at him. 

Arm raised, he looked ready to strike again.

“You will speak when spoken to.” He growled. “And you’re going to answer every fucking question. You married into the savages, and you’ll be treated like one.” 

“Fuck you.” Clarke felt another burn of indignation of Lexa’s behalf, and she let it fuel her defiance. 

Another smack, this time, Clarke realized, close fisted. 

Clarke’s entire chair swung over, and she was thrown to the ground, still bound to her seat. She barely managed to keep her head from hitting the ground, her entire vision swimming sideways now. 

She saw the tip of Pike’s leather boot in her face, and then he kneeled down, taking up most of her vision. 

Clarke’s ears were ringing, and all she could think about was her training alongside Lexa. 

_ Clarke awoke to pitch black darkness.  _

_ Her limbs ached, and she moved to stretch them.  _

_ She blinked, once, twice...nothing. Pitch black.  _

_ It always started like this. She’d wake up confused, frightened when she couldn’t see, couldn’t move her arms.  _

_ But as with anything else, repeated exposure built up a tolerance to the shock.  _

_ Clarke was no longer fearful. She knew what she had to do.  _

_ Firstly- she had to stick to her training, and the first step was reconnaissance, to a certain degree.  _

_ She tried to remember Lexa’s teachings. “Use all your senses, Klark. You will be bound, and blindfolded, possibly gagged. You will need to ascertain where you are, and how you are being detained.”  _

_ Clarke took a deep breath, calming herself for a moment, before listening deeply.  _

_ There was a slight dripping sound. In the very faint distance, Clarke could hear horse hooves trotting slowly, and the faint garble of voices.  _

_ Sifting through her options, Clarke narrowed them down.  _

_ She could have been in the dungeon of the tower- that would explain the coolness of the air, the damp musk that she could smell, and the faint sounds of Polis bustling above ground.  _

_ The sudden opening and closing a heavy door confirmed her theory.  _

_ She was definitely being held in the dungeon, by the sound of the extremely thick wooden door, with the noisy metal latch on the outside.  _

_ Footsteps sounded.  _

_ Several.  _

_ There were two people in the room, one moving far closer to Clarke than the other.  _

_ Clarke wondered who it would be, delivering the blows this time.  _

_ She always had a suspicion it was Titus, who was watching her take the beating, waiting for her to fold.  _

_ She was asked everything. From Polis’ inner tunnelways, to Lexa’s daily schedule. Clarke knew far too much about Lexa to ever even risk lying, for fear that she might one day expose something true about the hunted Commander.  _

_ No, silence was her only option.  _

_ Silence after every cut, every punch, every kick, every bowl of water they poured over the already damp cloth covering her face.  _

_ Clarke endured every second of it.  _

_ The screaming, the suffocating, the stinging pain, her body crying out in protest.  _

_ For Lexa.  _

_ To protect Lexa.  _

_ To show her dedication to a group of people that was so desperate to write her off, she thought enduring torture resistance training was a suitable way to prove herself.  _

_ She didn’t allow herself to see Lexa, during this time.  _

_ It would put far too much guilt and trauma on the Commander’s shoulders, to be worried about Clarke’s state all the time when the clans needed her guidance more than ever.  _

_ Time and time again, Titus would assure Clarke that she didn’t need to endure such extreme “training” if she only would distance herself from Lexa, and leave Polis once and for all.  _

_ Clarke was not to be deterred.  _

Not then, not now, not ever. 

“It’s a shame, Griffin. You and I...we’re cut from the same cloth. We’re survivors.” Pike explained, as Clarke struggled to focus on him. “I can see that you’ve been through a lot.” Pike watched Clarke’s stony expression, shaking his head. “Luckily, I don’t need to work hard to make you talk. I’m going to go pay a visit to Abby and Jake.” Pike smirked when he finally got a moment of terror from Clarke’s expression. “I’m going to have to kill them, anyway. You know, to spark the fires of revolution and all that. But maybe you’ll have a change of heart next time I’m back. Think on it.” Pike turned, and suddenly the light he’d been blocking out was striking Clarke in the face, blinding her as she winced in pain. 

Fuck. 

She’d forgotten that Pike had her parents, and while she knew he wasn’t outright sadistic (she hoped), she knew he wasn’t bluffing about killing them to make a statement. 

Particularly Jake, seeing as Abby’s medical training made her a priority. Clarke felt panic well into her chest, as she tried to frantically escape the bonds. 

How long did she have? 

How would she be able to save her parents without her weapons? 

Clarke’s heart was thumping as she tried to rub her wrists together, to no avail. The binds were far too tight. 

She needed help, or a lot of innocent people were going to die, very soon.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit clexa-hsau.tumblr.com for story discussions, headcanons, updates, etc.


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